By Andrew DeCort, PhD
Recorded on April 11, 2019 in Addis Abeba
Introduction
On April 11, 2019, I had the privilege of interviewing the beloved dissident Oromo singer Hachalu Hundessa (1986-2020). I was touched by Hachalu’s kind presence and generosity of spirit as we sat together in Addis Ababa. He spoke openly with me about the atrocious injustices he and his people had suffered. He also spoke about his struggle to resist and transform these evils.
Hachalu presented himself as a freedom fighter for the rights of all Ethiopians. He told me about being arrested as a youth in Ambo and then being brutally tortured upside-down in the notorious Maekelawi detention center in Addis. This suffering gave birth to his career as a protest singer who defied atrocity and cried out for human dignity.
I was especially moved when Hachalu spoke of his family and explained why he named his kids Milkii (Good Omen) and Wabii (Guarantee). We laughed hard – that deep, strange laughter woven with pain – as he showed me their pictures and described living in the tension of love’s guarantee (Wabii) and life’s riskiness (Milkii). These were the extremes that framed his short life. Ominous in retrospect, he told me that he thought he might be assassinated.
I have heard many Ethiopians describe being brutally tortured by their government. (Soon after Hachalu, I interviewed Eskinder Nega, and he described being tortured at Makalawi with horrifying similarity to Hachalu’s experience.) I’ve also heard numerous stories about dissidents being displaced and driven to oppose oppressive power. But what stood out to me as I listened to Hachalu was the calm gentleness in his voice and the soft gaze in his eyes as he spoke about this excruciating pain.
In light of Ethiopia’s devastating civil war, which erupted months after Hachalu’s assassination — the deadliest conflict to date in the 21st century — Hachalu’s allusion to “a large war” also resonates ominously. As he said, “the oppressive system is still alive.”
Likewise, his call to reclaim our moral vision remains challenging and crucial for today. Speaking of the cycle of violence that has haunted Ethiopia, he insisted that Ethiopians must resist imitating the hate that has fueled so much pain. He said,
“In short, equality means mutual respect. Equality means loving one another. Equality means humans recognizing that the other is a divine creation, respecting the divine, and living in reverence of the divine arrangement.
Hachalu also presents a disruptive, healing vision of culture. He sees culture as “a divine gift” rather than a human fabrication. In the Oromo worldview, all cultures — particularly our moral freedom and the languages we speak — have divine dignity and equal worth. None is inferior or superior to another. Each reflects some aspect of the genesis of all creation in our one Creator. This reflects the Oromo maxim namni namuma or “a human is human.” In this vision, there is no othering but rather embrace and inclusion. Moral equality is our divine DNA.
At the end of the interview, Hachalu and I discussed doing a follow-up interview and producing a song together to promote neighbor-love in Ethiopia. I had recently co-founded an initiative called The Neighbor-Love Movement, and we were hoping that Hachalu would help us mainstream our vision with a soaring anthem celebrating “the other” as a neighbor rather than an “enemy.” He kindly agreed. The plan was to co-produce this anthem with other prominent Ethiopian singers.
Grievously, Hachalu was assassinated a year later on June 29, 2020. We were not able to do the second interview or produce the song before this grave evil was done. Then, on November 4, Ethiopia’s civil war exploded, and the vision of neighbor-love was publicly ridiculed and practically criminalized. According to General Balcha Debele, an estimated 1.2 million people were killed – one and a half times the death toll of the Rwandan genocide.
The following interview documents some of Hachalu’s personal life, his interpretation of Ethiopian society, and his moral vision for a humane future. I’m publishing it now as Ethiopians negotiate whether they will process their grief and pursue just peace as a multiethnic community of equals or descend deeper into the abyss of violence. I am reminded of St Paul’s warning, “If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other” (Galatians 5:15).
I hope this interview serves as a small contribution to preserving Hachalu’s memory and presenting a renewed call to embody neighbor-love in Ethiopia today. This painfully practical path is the only way forward for Ethiopia. As Hachalu told me, “No one is more valuable, and no one is less valuable. All humans are humans. The only option is respect, to love and tolerate each other, and to live together in harmony, resolving differences through dialogue.” Or, as W.H. Auden wrote, “We must love each other or die.”
I’m deeply grateful to Professor Ezekiel Gebissa for generously translating the audio recording of this interview and helping me contextualize Hachalu’s words in the Oromo worldview. Many thanks!
May the epidemic of othering, assassination, abduction, and what Hachalu called “mutual annihilation” come to an end in Ethiopia. May love, justice, and flourishing prevail for all neighbors.
Excerpts:
AD: Who is Hachalu?
HH: I was born in 1986. I’m married with two daughters named Milkii (Good Omen) and Wabii (Guarantee). I have five brothers, but one recently died. I also have four sisters.
I was arrested in 11th grade and spent five years in prison. When I got out, I started making music because I wanted to tell my story. Nine of the songs on my first album were written in prison.
I performed in Sudan and quickly became a hero for my people. But the government tried to silence me. I was arrested and tortured in Maekelawi detention center for a week. Because of government oppression, I had to make my second album in the United States.
But I decided to return home to be with my people. I am willing to take risks and make sacrifices. I have faced assassination attempts.
AD: Is there a line in one of your prison songs that captures your message?
HH: Injustice cannot create justice. Two wrongs don’t make a right. My message is justice for all Ethiopians.
My favorite song is in the geerarsa (heroic epic) genre. The reason is because it expresses my true feelings. When I sing it, it brings forth my true emotions.
I’m sure you know the lyrics. They’re so powerful that I even find them difficult to sing with composure. My voice trembles. A strange sound comes out of me. I sing the song with a spirit of determination.
The song “Maasaan Gamaa” (“The Field Over There”) evokes this sort of feeling. It is an old song, sung thirty-five years ago before I was born. Wosanu Dido sang it.
The song still has relevance now. As long as the Oromo question [demands] aren’t met, this song will continue to be sung. The lyrics go like this:
Maasaan gamaa lafa hin baatu
Talbaa facaafata taatii
Tokko du’ee tokko hin taa’uu
Wal gaggalaafata taati.
“The field over there
It shall be plowed someday
Perhaps oil seeds may be planted in it
One must not die [of hunger]while another is always full
It will result in mutual annihilation.”
The lyrics spoke to the time, but little has changed since. The old man sang it and made the following point: “a system that privileges some, and deprives others, cannot go on. It will result in mutual annihilation.”
Since those days until now, the government in this country has not changed its governing style. Even though Wayyaaane [TPLF] introduced federalism, the group continued to use the same oppressive system of the nafxanyaa [armed settlers] to rule the Oromo. It hid behind the new system as a facade. It was the system Menelik put in place. [Emperor Menelik II ruled Ethiopia from 1889 to 1913 and is commonly considered the founder of the modern Ethiopian state.]
Because the oppressive system is still alive, the song is similarly alive. The song has the same melody as the original one, but I have changed the lyrics to reflect the current reality. The new lyrics state that people from distant places, from as far away as 800 to 1000 kilometers, traveled all the way to Arat Kilo [Ethiopia’s seat of political power]. These people were able to seize power situated in the Oromo heartland, turn that power against the Oromo, and imprison and kill them at will. They were able to rule the Oromo for a century from this center.
I took a position and decided to assert [in the lyrics] that the Oromo must take control of this seat of power, the hall where power is exercised.
AD: You’ve just spoken about power. The word “justice” is often spoken. But what does justice really mean?
Note: The translator asked Hachalu, “What is equality?” Hachalu’s response offers an interpretation of justice through the lens of equality.
HH: The divine creates human beings and places them on this earth. When humans are created, they are free. Only the Creator can give and take away this freedom from humans. No creation has the power to take away freedom from humans.
Therefore, equality means knowing that all humans are created with no hierarchy of valuation over other humans. Because no human being is more valuable than another since all are created equal, humans must realize that no human can take away the inherent equality in liberty. No one is more valuable, and no one is less valuable. All humans are human.
The only option is respect, to love and tolerate each other, and to live together in harmony resolving differences through dialogue (ilaa fi ilaamee).
This means especially, for example, that culture is not a product of human effort; it is a divine gift. We speak in our native language not because of human choice but because of divine decision.
In this world, a human being is a human being. But there are many languages, aren’t there? Let me take the example of our country. You speak Afaan Oromo not because humans made you speak it. It is a divine endowment. In China, people speak Chinese. Within China, different groups speak different dialects. This occurs because the divine willed it. It’s not made by humans.
It must therefore be the natural duty of humans to respect the divine imperative. If anyone doesn’t observe this, it means that the individual doesn’t believe in equality.
In such cases, the culprit is not only engendering human conflict but also confronting the divine itself. In short, equality means mutual respect. Equality means loving one another. Equality means humans recognizing that the other is a divine creation, respecting the divine, and living in reverence of the divine arrangement.
AD: I taught at Wheaton College in Chicago for three years, and I led a study abroad program to Ethiopia each year. We studied Ethiopian history, religion and politics, and then we came to learn from Ethiopian leaders in private seminars. I did the same program with the University of Bonn in Germany.
During this program in 2018, I took my students to Lalibela, and we went for a hike. Children, mainly little girls, started walking with us. They were bowing to the churches. Then I asked them, “What do you think of Oromo people? What kind of people are they?” They answered, “We don’t like them! They are very bad people!” Then I asked them, “What about Tigrayans?” They gave the same answer.
This broke my heart. They were innocent little children speaking evil things I’m guessing they heard from their parents, teachers, or priests.
How can we change this othering attitude? This enemy-making mindset seems so deeply rooted in the soil right now. How do we move from little children saying ugly things about people they’ve never met to having an attitude that respects and values other people?
HH: It takes time to change attitudes. It is not easy. But saying we love Ethiopia while hating Ethiopian people doesn’t make sense. I do not hate Amharas or Tigrayans. But I oppose the leaders that have created oppressive systems and structures for Oromo people. We want to present a positive image of what it means to be Oromo that refutes the negative image of us as violent or a source of fear. We must be exemplars of kindness, forgiveness, and justice.
It looks like the Oromo now have the opportunity to show who they are. They’ve gained power in this country to prove it, not only to the peoples of this country but also to foreigners abroad.
Those groups who were in power thus far focused their diplomatic endeavors on presenting the Oromo in a negative light to the big powers and African countries. They distorted its history, its religion, and its majority status in the country.
This was history. We don’t have time to dwell on retelling the past. The fact is that the misrepresentation was accomplished.
In power now, the Oromo have the chance to refute the negative portrayals of the Oromo as depicted by Amhara elites. We can demonstrate to the world the true identity of the Oromo people.
If the Oromo remain leaders for a long time, it would be possible for outside observers whose views of the Oromo were affected by the Amhara elites misrepresentation to get to know that the Oromo society is good, inclusive, generous, learned, and heroic — a great nation.
The unfavorable portrayal resulted from hate. Overcoming this deep-seated hate may be a heavy burden for the Oromo to overcome, but Oromos must not reciprocate in kind. This transformation must be done with love. For a long time, the Oromo lived within the framework of their Gadaa heritage, which cultivates an ethos of inclusion, erudition, and virtue.
The Oromo must not resort to violence unless there’s a compelling reason to take action amounting to a large war.
AD: I’m working on promoting the ethical vision of loving your neighbor in Ethiopia. This vision is rooted in the Bible, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam — the moral traditions that have shaped Ethiopia. There’s an incredible power in saying, “Whoever you are, whoever they are, whoever I am or we are — we are all neighbors. And so we’re called to love and respect each other.” This is especially so because Ethiopians are so deeply religious.
I would love to see musicians incorporating the language of loving our neighbors in their art. Is this something you’ve done or would be interested in doing?
HH: We’ve been doing this. You have all of our support. In terms of love, care, supporting your neighbors — we’re in. There’s no problem; we could do this.
AD: Would you be willing to sing a song about neighbor-love?
HH: Yes!
Hachalu Hundessa was assassinated on June 29, 2020 on the outskirts of Addis Ababa. Four years later, those responsible for his murder have still not been brought to justice. Few, if any, have been held accountable for Ethiopia’s recent high-level assassinations, including the killing of the beloved Oromo opposition figure Bate Urgessa on April 10, 2024. In the wake of Ethiopia’s civil war, the pattern of assassinations and abductions has escalated into a national crisis.
I wish to express my deepest condolences to Hachalu’s wife Fantu Demissie, his children, his entire family, and all who loved him. Rest in peace, rise in power, dear Olla. Namni namuma.
May violence cease and neighbor-love flourish in Ethiopia. AS
Andrew DeCort holds a PhD in religious and political ethics from the University of Chicago. He co-founded the Neighbor-Love Movement in Ethiopia and has taught ethics, public theology, peace and conflict, and Ethiopian Studies at Wheaton College, the Ethiopian Graduate School of Theology, and the University of Bonn. His forthcoming book on Jesus’s Beatitudes will be released in September 2024 with BitterSweet Collective.
