The Ethiopian government under Aby Ahmed is afraid of its own citizens because the citizens are no longer afraid of the regime. People have put aside fear and now wants accountability from the failed Abiy’s authoritarian regime. People are no longer afraid of intimidation, people are no longer impressed by PR stunts, people are no longer scared of arrests. People are now fighting for their futures and those of the coming generations.

When you see the government afraid and using every unjust and violent methods to suppress the voices of the people you just know the Aby’s illegitimate regime is on the brink of collapse. There are no more lies to tell people, people have become immune to threats and that’s why you are seeing the government is on panic mode. The people have been awakened.

Governments rarely fear foreign enemies as much as they fear losing the confidence of their own people. Military power can repel an external threat. Propaganda can shape public perception for a while. Economic promises can buy political time. But when ordinary citizens begin asking difficult questions without fear, governments often discover that the greatest challenge they face is not an army—it is an awakened population.

This raises an important question about Ethiopia today.

Why does the relationship between the Ethiopian government and many of its citizens appear increasingly characterized by distrust rather than confidence? Why do so many political discussions revolve around arrests, restrictions, security operations, and information control instead of reconciliation, institution-building, and economic transformation?

These questions deserve careful examination because they go beyond one administration. They concern the nature of political power itself.

Authority exists when people voluntarily recognize the legitimacy of institutions. Coercion becomes more visible when voluntary trust weakens.

This distinction matters.

If a government increasingly relies on intimidation, emergency measures, surveillance, censorship, or overwhelming security responses to criticism, observers naturally begin asking whether those actions reflect confidence—or insecurity.

Power and fear often exist in an inverse relationship.

A government that enjoys widespread public confidence generally has little reason to fear criticism. It welcomes debate because debate strengthens legitimacy. It answers questions because transparency builds trust. It allows disagreement because disagreement is not automatically seen as a threat.

But governments that perceive every criticism as political sabotage often reveal something much deeper: uncertainty about their own relationship with the public.

That brings us to Ethiopia.

For several years, Ethiopia has experienced conflict, political polarization, economic hardship, inflation, displacement, humanitarian crises, and recurring tensions between different political actors. These developments have placed enormous pressure on both the government and society.

Many citizens who once hoped for rapid political reforms now openly question whether those expectations have been fulfilled.

The optimism that surrounded political change several years ago has, for many Ethiopians, given way to frustration.

Why?

Because expectations were extremely high.

People expected peace.

People expected prosperity.

People expected institutional reforms.

People expected justice.

People expected reconciliation.

Instead, many observers argue that the country continues to struggle with armed conflicts, political divisions, economic pressures, and declining public confidence.

Whether one agrees entirely with that assessment or not, one fact is difficult to ignore: many Ethiopians today are asking harder questions than they did a few years ago.

Questions such as:

Where is the peace that was promised?

Why are conflicts still affecting different regions?

Why has economic hardship become such a dominant concern?

Why does political disagreement often appear to result in confrontation instead of dialogue?

These are not merely opposition questions.

They are civic questions.

They are questions that naturally emerge whenever citizens compare political promises with lived realities.

Perhaps the most significant political development is not the government’s actions themselves but the changing psychology of the public.

Fear appears to be evolving.

Throughout history, authoritarian systems have often depended on one essential resource—not money, not weapons, but fear.

Fear persuades people to remain silent.

Fear discourages criticism.

Fear isolates communities.

Fear convinces individuals that speaking out is pointless.

But history also demonstrates something equally important.

Fear has limits.

There comes a moment when people conclude they have more to lose by remaining silent than by speaking.

When that psychological shift happens, political landscapes begin changing.

People who no longer expect protection from silence become increasingly willing to demand accountability.

That is a profound transformation.

Governments often struggle to respond to this kind of change because traditional methods become less effective.

Public relations campaigns may no longer persuade skeptical audiences.

Official speeches may generate less enthusiasm than before.

Political slogans may lose emotional power.

Narratives that once unified supporters may begin facing closer scrutiny.

Why?

Because experience becomes more persuasive than rhetoric.

People increasingly compare what they hear with what they live every day.

If living standards fail to improve, speeches alone rarely restore confidence.

If insecurity persists, promises gradually lose credibility.

If institutions appear inconsistent, public trust becomes harder to rebuild.

Trust, once broken, is one of the most difficult political resources to recover.

Another important observation concerns legitimacy.

Legitimacy cannot simply be declared.

It must be continually renewed through governance.

Governments strengthen legitimacy when citizens believe institutions are fair, accountable, predictable, and responsive.

Conversely, legitimacy weakens when significant portions of society perceive institutions as serving political interests rather than the public interest.

This is why governments often become increasingly sensitive to criticism during periods of declining public confidence.

Criticism becomes interpreted not merely as disagreement but as a threat to political survival.

That creates a dangerous cycle.

The government responds more aggressively.

Citizens become more frustrated.

Public trust declines further.

Government anxiety increases.

Security measures intensify.

The political distance between leaders and citizens widens.

Eventually, communication gives way to confrontation.

History offers many examples of governments that misunderstood this cycle.

They believed their greatest enemy was the opposition.

Later they discovered that their greatest challenge had become widespread public disappointment.

Disappointed citizens cannot easily be persuaded through slogans alone.

They require tangible improvements.

They want functioning institutions.

They want justice.

They want equal treatment before the law.

They want opportunities for their children.

They want economic stability.

They want dignity.

These aspirations are not unique to Ethiopia.

They are universal.

Every government eventually faces the same question:

Can it maintain legitimacy through performance rather than fear?

This question becomes even more significant in a country with Ethiopia’s remarkable history.

Ethiopia possesses one of Africa’s oldest civilizations.

Its people have demonstrated resilience through wars, famines, political transitions, and enormous social transformations.

That history also means Ethiopians have repeatedly shown an ability to endure hardship while continuing to demand a better future.

No government should underestimate that resilience.

Political power may appear permanent.

History repeatedly proves otherwise.

Institutions outlast individuals.

Nations outlast administrations.

Citizens outlast political movements.

This is why wise leadership invests more in trust than intimidation.

Fear may create temporary obedience.

Trust creates lasting stability.

One of the greatest mistakes any government can make is confusing silence with support.

Silence often reflects uncertainty.

Sometimes it reflects exhaustion.

Sometimes it reflects fear.

But silence should never automatically be interpreted as approval.

Likewise, when citizens begin speaking more openly, governments face a choice.

They can interpret criticism as hostility.

Or they can interpret criticism as valuable political feedback.

The first path often produces greater polarization.

The second creates opportunities for reform.

Ultimately, the future of Ethiopia will not be determined solely by political elites

It will largely depend on whether trust between citizens and institutions can be rebuilt.

No nation can sustainably develop when large segments of society view each other with suspicion.

No economy flourishes where political uncertainty dominates everyday life.

No lasting peace emerges where dialogue is consistently replaced by confrontation.

The most successful governments in history have not been those that eliminated criticism.

They were those that demonstrated enough confidence to listen to it.

Perhaps the real question is not whether the government fears its citizens.

Perhaps the deeper question is this:

What kind of relationship should exist between a government and the people from whom it derives its authority?

If citizens increasingly demand accountability, should that demand be viewed as a threat—or as evidence that people still believe their country can become better?

Can political legitimacy be maintained primarily through force, or must it ultimately rest on public trust?

Can lasting peace emerge without genuine political inclusion?

Can economic recovery occur without rebuilding confidence in public institutions?

Can national unity exist when citizens feel their voices are not being heard?

And perhaps the most important question of all:

If governments exist to serve the people, what happens when the people no longer believe their government is listening?

History suggests that the answer to that question has shaped the rise and fall of governments across every continent and every generation.

Ethiopia now faces the challenge of determining how it will answer it.