Peace deals that stop the shooting but don't resolve power
Eight years after a Nobel Prize-winning peacemaker took office in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia finds itself caught in a paradox familiar to students of history: the signing of peace accords has not quieted the country but instead reshuffled its grievances into new and more fragmented forms. Across Tigray, Amhara, and Oromia, armed factions born from exclusion or broken promises have filled the space that diplomacy left unresolved, while tensions with Eritrea and Egypt threaten to draw the region into a wider confrontation. As Ethiopians approach elections in June 2026, the question is not whether peace was attempted, but whether it was ever truly shared.
- Peace agreements in Tigray, Amhara, and Oromia have fractured rather than healed — spawning splinter militias, breakaway factions, and fresh cycles of displacement affecting hundreds of thousands.
- The federal government's slow implementation of ceasefire terms, its exclusion of key parties from elections, and credible reports of human rights violations are actively eroding the legitimacy it needs to govern.
- Regional flashpoints with Eritrea over sea access and with Egypt over the Nile dam are no longer abstract disputes — they carry the real risk of proxy wars that would deepen Ethiopia's domestic crisis.
- Decentralized armed groups like Fano in Amhara and the Oromo Liberation Army present a structural problem: without unified leadership, there is no single table at which a durable settlement can be reached.
- With June 1 elections approaching under conditions widely seen as unfair, the window for restoring faith in democratic processes is narrowing — and with it, the last off-ramp before broader conflict.
When Abiy Ahmed took office in April 2018, he moved quickly — brokering an end to a long insurgency in Oromia and negotiating a landmark peace with Eritrea over a border war that had cost tens of thousands of lives. The Nobel Committee awarded him its Peace Prize in 2019. Two years later, his government was waging one of the deadliest wars on the continent in Tigray.
The 2022 Pretoria ceasefire formally ended that war, but it did not resolve the underlying tensions. Implementation has stalled — displaced people have not returned, transitional justice has not begun, and the national election board has barred the TPLF from the June 2026 elections. Inside Tigray, the TPLF's military wing has clashed with a breakaway faction aligned with Abiy, and the region's interim administration has been sidelined by the reconstituted prewar government. The ceasefire holds in name only.
In Amhara, the Fano militias — who fought alongside federal forces in Tigray but were excluded from the peace talks — have turned their weapons on the government. Over 600,000 people have been displaced. Fano claims to control most of the region, and federal troops stand accused of serious human rights violations. In Oromia, the Oromo Liberation Army, which refused to disarm in 2019, has expanded steadily, and repeated peace talks have collapsed under the weight of mutual distrust and the group's decentralized structure.
Abiy's broader political vision — replacing ethno-federalism with a centralized Prosperity Party — has accelerated rather than dampened ethnic mobilization. Elites who feared losing regional autonomy organized resistance, and in some places that resistance became armed conflict. The system he inherited was imperfect; the alternative he offered lacked the specifics needed to build confidence.
Beyond Ethiopia's borders, the picture is equally fraught. Eritrea, alarmed by Abiy's repeated assertions that Ethiopia needs sea access, has cultivated ties with his opponents — including the very TPLF it fought against during the Tigray war. Relations with Egypt have deteriorated sharply over the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam, with Cairo warning the UN Security Council that it would defend its water supply by any means the UN Charter permits. Reports emerged early this year that Ethiopia was hosting a training camp for a paramilitary group fighting Egypt's ally in Sudan — a sign that proxy dynamics are already taking shape.
The path out of this crisis is visible, if narrow. It requires the government to implement what it has already signed, widen the circle of groups included in future negotiations, and cool regional tensions through mediation. Most urgently, it requires restoring credibility to democratic processes — allowing excluded parties to compete, and giving Ethiopians reason to believe that elections, not arms, determine who governs. Without that foundation, the current instability is not a crisis being managed but a war being postponed.
In April 2018, Ethiopia's new Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed arrived in office with a peacemaker's mandate. Within months, he had brokered an accord to end a decades-long insurgency in Oromia and negotiated a historic settlement with Eritrea over a border dispute that had claimed tens of thousands of lives in the late 1990s. The international community took notice. In 2019, Abiy received the Nobel Peace Prize. But the reputation did not hold.
By 2020, the government was waging a brutal war in Tigray. The conflict lasted two years, killed hundreds of thousands, and displaced more than a million people. A ceasefire agreement signed in Pretoria in 2022 formally ended the fighting, yet today—as Ethiopians prepare for elections on June 1—Tigray remains unstable, and armed insurgencies continue across multiple regions. The peace deals, rather than closing wounds, have opened new ones. Splinter groups have emerged with fresh grievances. Some reject the terms of the agreements, particularly the requirement to disarm. Others resent the government's slow or incomplete implementation of key provisions, like power-sharing arrangements. And as diplomatic tensions with neighboring countries mount, the risk of proxy wars or direct confrontation has grown.
Much of the instability traces back to Ethiopia's ethno-federal system, established in the early 1990s after the fall of a military dictatorship. The country is divided into twelve ethnically defined states, each with the right to draft its own constitution and manage its own budget. In theory, this was democratic. In practice, a single coalition—the Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front, dominated by the Tigray People's Liberation Front—controlled the federal government and used repression to suppress opposition. When Abiy took power, he promised reform. His vision was to replace ethno-federalism with centralized authority, dissolving the coalition of ethnic parties into a unified Prosperity Party. But the plan lacked specifics. Many Ethiopians, particularly those who believed in federalism, grew anxious. Rather than uniting the country, Abiy's policies pushed political elites to mobilize along ethnic lines to resist him. In some places, resistance turned violent.
Tigray became the crucible. The TPLF's commitment to federalism collided with Abiy's push for centralization, and the region descended into war. The 2022 ceasefire brought formal peace, but implementation has stalled. Tigrayans have grown frustrated as the government delays transitional justice mechanisms and the return of displaced people. Last year, the national election board barred the TPLF from participating in the June 2026 elections—a move that signaled the government's thumb on the scale. Now fissures within the TPLF itself are producing violence. The Tigray Defense Forces, the TPLF's military wing, have clashed with the Tigray Peace Forces, a breakaway faction aligned with Abiy. In January, a drone strike killed a person in Tigray; federal officials blamed the government. In February, troops were redeployed near the region. In April, the TPLF reconstituted the prewar Tigrayan government, sidelining the interim administration recognized by Addis Ababa. The region's militias and the federal government remain locked in friction that could spiral into direct confrontation.
The ceasefire also created problems in neighboring Amhara state. The Fano militias fought alongside federal forces in the Tigray war but were excluded from the peace negotiations. The agreement left contested border territories unresolved. Frustrated, and riding a wave of resurgent Amharan nationalism, Fano has recruited aggressively and expanded operations. More than 600,000 people have been displaced by fighting between federal forces and Amharan groups. Credible reports document federal troops committing human rights violations. Fano claims to control eighty percent of Amhara, and public mistrust of the federal government strengthens its local base. But Fano is decentralized, without unified leadership or clear objectives—a structure that will complicate any attempt at a durable political settlement.
In Oromia, the conflict never truly ended. The Oromo Liberation Army, which split from its parent organization in 2019 rather than disarm, has reignited the fight for greater autonomy. While federal troops were occupied in Tigray, the OLA expanded its operations and recruitment. Abiy has attempted peace talks multiple times, but each effort has collapsed. The OLA's decentralized structure means there are too many interested parties to negotiate with. And OLA members fear that any agreement will be broken, just as previous ones have been.
Ethiopia's troubles extend beyond its borders. Tensions with Eritrea have flared again, centered on Abiy's repeated claims that sea access is essential to national security. Eritrea interprets this as a threat to its sovereignty—Ethiopia's historical port was Assab, now in Eritrean territory. In response, Eritrea has cultivated ties with anti-Abiy actors, including, remarkably, the TPLF, which it fought during the 2020-22 war. Earlier this year, the Ethiopian government demanded that Eritrean forces withdraw from Tigray. Relations with Egypt have also deteriorated over the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam, a massive hydropower project on a tributary of the Nile. Ethiopia says the dam is essential to electrify millions of people. Egypt sees it as an existential threat to its water supply. Last September, Egypt brought its complaint to the UN Security Council, warning that Cairo would "defend its existential interests" using "all measures permitted under the UN Charter." Ethiopia responded in December by dismissing Egypt's position as out of touch with "the realities of the twenty-first century." In February, Reuters reported that Ethiopia was hosting an Emirati-funded training camp for the Rapid Support Forces, the paramilitary group fighting the Egyptian-backed Sudanese military. These regional disputes could escalate into armed confrontation or, more likely, into proxy wars—a dynamic that would entrench Ethiopia's domestic security crisis.
The path forward exists but demands political courage. The government must visibly implement the peace provisions it has already signed—facilitating the return of displaced people, launching transitional justice in Tigray, rebuilding lost trust. It should widen the circle of groups included in future negotiations, making agreements harder to reach but more durable once struck. It must cool tensions with Egypt and Eritrea, perhaps by invoking the 2015 agreement on Nile dam principles and bringing in a third-party mediator. Most critically, it must restore faith in democratic processes. The June 1 election seems unlikely to meet standards of fairness, but allowing barred groups like the TPLF to compete again would signal genuine commitment to peaceful political contestation. Without these steps, the security crisis will simmer until tensions boil over and send the country back into war.
Notable Quotes
Rather than bringing stability, the deals the government has brokered with various armed groups have fomented uncertainty, mistrust, and fresh violence.— Analysis of Ethiopia's peace agreements
Continued uncertainty about the country's political future will only deepen Ethiopians' frustration—and fuel violent resistance.— Assessment of Ethiopia's governance trajectory
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did peace deals designed to end violence instead create new conflicts?
Because the deals addressed the symptoms, not the disease. They stopped the shooting, but they didn't resolve the underlying question of how power should be distributed in Ethiopia. When you tell a group they have to disarm but don't give them a real seat at the table, you've just created a new grievance.
So the splinter groups—the Tigray Peace Forces, the Fano militias—they're essentially saying the deal wasn't good enough?
Partly that. But it's also that the government hasn't followed through on what it promised. Tigrayans were supposed to get transitional justice mechanisms and help returning home. That hasn't happened. Fano was supposed to be part of the peace process but got cut out entirely. When you break your word, people stop believing you'll keep the next agreement.
And the regional tensions with Eritrea and Egypt—how do those make things worse inside Ethiopia?
They give neighboring countries a reason to arm Ethiopia's internal factions. If Eritrea wants to pressure Abiy, it can fund the TPLF. If Egypt wants to weaken Ethiopia over the dam dispute, it can support whoever's fighting the government. Suddenly your domestic insurgency becomes someone else's proxy war.
Is there any way out of this?
Yes, but it requires the government to actually mean what it says about reform. Implement the peace deals. Include more groups in negotiations, not fewer. Let the TPLF compete in elections again. Open a real debate about how Ethiopia should be governed. Right now, people don't trust the government because it keeps excluding them and breaking promises.
And if it doesn't do those things?
Then the simmering conflict becomes a boiling one. You'll have multiple insurgencies, regional proxy wars, and a government that's lost the consent of the governed. That's how you get back to full-scale war.