(Re)building Addis: An Imperial Vision
Over a few days in March, the famed historic neighbourhood 'Piassa' in Addis was unceremoniously pulled down. Established by the Ethiopian Emperor Menelik II in the late 19th century, Addis's old quarter came to be known as the Piassa during the Italian occupation of Ethiopia in the 1930s. Home to dozens of much-loved and supposedly protected modernist buildings, bulldozers tore through these and the informal dwellings that had been slung up in the neighbourhood earlier this year. For decades, it had been a core piece of Addis's collective memory and an area inhabited mainly by Amhara communities. Its erasure was sudden and brutal– wiping out history and long-established communities almost overnight.
The ostensible justification for bulldozing the old quarter is part of the 'Addis Ababa Corridor Development Project'- a major widening of roads across the capital to enhance connectivity. Addis is undergoing a facelift, with neighbourhoods being pulled down, skyscrapers being thrown up apace, fresh lighting, and gentrified urban squares installed. But the scale and speed of change are both immense and surreal, considering the insurgencies in Amhara and Oromia, the high levels of food insecurity and displacement, and the widespread economic hardship.
The plan to create a glittering city akin to Dubai belies a more complicated and darker reality. The vast sums being ploughed into these projects are only making the country's economic inequalities starker in Addis and across Ethiopia. Many have questioned the justification of such a massively expensive undertaking when the estimated cost of Tigray's post-war reconstruction is believed to be in the tens of USD billions. The economic fabric of the northern region still lies in ruin. Meanwhile, the escalating Fano insurgency in the Amhara region and the federal government's heavily militarised response have also caused significant damage to the region's finances, with government services decimated, farmers unable to plant their crops, and transportation choked. The photos being pumped out from government-affiliated news websites of electrified streets and lush promenades jar with the everyday realities of the overwhelming majority of Ethiopians.
Meanwhile, in the capital, residents in informal settlements are being displaced, often with little warning. Many have been moved into new constructions, but these communities are becoming ever more peripheral—physically and socially isolated from its newly modernised core. And while these new high-end developments may attract some foreign investment, they will do little to address the reality that over 21 million Ethiopians still require humanitarian assistance due to conflict, drought, and environmental disasters. But this is far from the priority of the increasingly militarised federal government focused on the capital.
Indeed, the securitisation of the capital has gone hand-in-hand with the modernisation scheme. The ruling clique has directed the creation of parallel security forces that are answerable to a trusted elite, not the broader national security architecture and the Ethiopian National Defence Force (ENDF). The establishment of a Praetorian guard and the co-opting or jailing of key opponents has allowed the prime minister to consolidate his hold on Addis– even while insurgencies rage in Amhara and Oromia. As part of the rebuilding of Addis is the construction of an immense presidential palace complex on top of a hill overlooking the capital. Details are few and far between, with extreme secrecy surrounding its planning and building. However, the cost of Abiy's new palace has been touted at several billion USD and is believed to be underwritten by Abu Dhabi.
The tearing down of the Piassa is part of a broader rewriting, or rebuilding, of Ethiopia's history in a new image. Abiy has long framed his premiership in the rhetoric of a semi-imperial Ethiopia which he was destined to rule, and the appropriation or removal of key pieces of national identity– be it the Piassa, the Battle of Adwa, or 'sea access' is part of this broader political symbolism. The vision of an urban renewal with Abiy as the leader destined to guide Ethiopia into a new era of prosperity fits squarely into this. Yet it was the Prosperity Party government which oversaw the destruction and looting of ancient culture and heritage during the Tigray war. Many of the items, including ancient manuscripts, that were stolen will never be recovered, and the knowledge and role of the hundreds of religious figures who were killed are also irrecoverable. The next chapter of this 'imperial Ethiopia' is more than just a shiny new Adwa Museum.
Addis is far from the only city in the Horn to undergo immense construction. Nairobi, too, is witnessing skyscrapers being erected in once-leafy neighbourhoods like Kilimani and Kileleshewa. But the ongoing construction in Addis is markedly different and part of a broader concentration of money and attention to the capital at the expense of the rest of Ethiopia. Many have mourned the loss of the historic Piassa, but for the Prosperity Party, this is just one part of a broader attempt to re-brand and re-form an increasingly fragile state in their particular vision.
By the Ethiopian Cable team
Gain unlimited access to all our Editorials. Unlock Full Access to Our Expert Editorials — Trusted Insights, Unlimited Reading.
Create your Sahan account LoginUnlock lifetime access to all our Premium editorial content
Ethiopia’s leaders are fighting a new war with an old conviction: that military victory can permanently settle the question of who owns the state. But the coalition that encircled Tigray in 2020 has fractured, the regional balance has shifted, and drone capabilities are spreading to the government’s opponents. The battlefield looks familiar, but the strategic conditions are profoundly different. The danger lies in mistaking the temporary capture of territory for the resolution of deep-seated conflict, a ruinous road Ethiopia has travelled before; its towns bear the scars, and its people carry the losses.
In social psychology, the term "desperation conundrum" refers to a psychological paradox wherein an acute, extreme, or severe need for an objective inadvertently impedes its attainment. This occurs because an intense sense of urgency frequently drives choices and behaviours that alienate the very outcome that is so desperately sought.
Somalia’s contemporary political trajectory is profoundly defined by the month of October. Within the Somali collective consciousness, October is not merely another page on the calendar; it is the recurring crucible of political upheaval, tragedy and systemic transformation.
The Federal Government of Somalia (FGS) has since 10 October been deploying National Intelligence and Security Agency (NISA) forces, specifically the little-known Public Protection Forces (Ilaalada Shacabka / People’s Protection Forces), in Wadajir. This mobilisation is concentrated close to the home of ex-President Sheikh Sharif Sheikh Ahmed – a development widely criticised by many Somalis as provocative. Some interpret the build-up as a prelude, possibly, to some form of armed action against the former president and leader of the opposition Somali Future Council, amid uncorroborated media reports that President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud (HSM) has used Abgaal clan elders to relay an ultimatum demanding the disarmament of Sharif and other opposition figures.
It’s been a bruising week for the Somali Federal Government (FGS), headed by President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud (HSM), whose constitutional term of office expired in May this year. Yesterday, forces aligned with the administration of Jubaland peacefully took control of the strategic border town of Beled Haawo in Somalia’s Gedo region – a lucrative customs post for trade and transit with Kenya. Roughly 1,000 Daraawiish paramilitaries loyal to Abdirashid Hassan Janan – a fickle politician who is notorious for changing sides in a volatile region – reportedly deployed across key sites in the town following negotiations with the previous local administration.
Plans are intensifying within Hiiraan to establish an autonomous "Hiiraan State." This development reflects deep-seated regional and clan cleavages reasserting themselves in local politics, set against the backdrop of a stalled federal process, a breakdown in talks between President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud (HSM) and the opposition Somalia Future Council (SFC), and an unravelling Somali federation.
Nearly a month has passed since a powerful blast destroyed the home of General Mahad, widely known as Taliye Shub, in Doolow, a political dissident who opposed the government of Hassan Sheikh Mohamud.
While Mogadishu’s elite were ensconced in the Hangar complex last week praising Turkey, berating its critics, and proclaiming a ‘New Somalia’, the country's periphery told a vastly different story - one where "old Somalia," with its deep-seated clan feuds and the brutal calculus of blood and retaliation, remained stubbornly intact.
On 5 September, Somaliland President Abdirahman Irro arrived in the United States for an informal working visit designed to launch a new diplomatic push to cement Hargeisa's rising geopolitical profile. Monitored closely both regionally and internationally, the high-stakes trip carries immense domestic expectations. It represents an ambitious diplomatic outreach by Hargeisa to Washington, capitalising on the momentum generated by Israel's formal recognition of Somaliland in December 2025. However, translating this sudden diplomatic visibility into tangible strategic prospects remains a formidable challenge.