The announcement of Abiy Ahmed’s resounding electoral victory in Ethiopia has been met with a mix of relief and concern. While the Prime Minister’s mandate appears solid, the underlying fissures in the nation’s political and ethnic landscape could be exacerbated by a factor rarely discussed in these terms: climate stress.
Ethiopia, like much of the Horn of Africa, is on the front line of climate breakdown. The country has experienced recurrent droughts, erratic rainfall, and rising temperatures, all of which have strained agricultural livelihoods and intensified competition over resources. According to the IPCC, East Africa is projected to warm by 1.5 to 2 degrees Celsius by mid-century, reducing crop yields and water availability. This is not a tomorrow’s problem. It is already here.
The political victory, with Abiy’s Prosperity Party winning over 400 seats in a 547-seat parliament, gives him the authority to push through reforms. But it also concentrates power in a country where ethnic federalism has been a double-edged sword. The Tigray conflict, which erupted in late 2020, has already displaced over two million people and left hundreds of thousands in famine-like conditions. The UN reports that 5.5 million people in Tigray alone require emergency food assistance. And now, with the agricultural season approaching, the window for planting is narrowing.
UK aid agencies are on alert not simply because of political instability but because they understand the nexus between governance failure and climate shocks. When a government is preoccupied with consolidating power or quelling insurgencies, its capacity to manage natural resource scarcities diminishes. Conversely, when water tables drop and pastures shrink, local grievances can easily escalate into armed conflicts. This is not speculation; it is a pattern observed from Darfur to the Sahel.
Ethiopia’s grand development project, the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD), remains a source of diplomatic tension with downstream nations, Egypt and Sudan. The dam is meant to provide much-needed hydroelectric power for Ethiopia’s energy transition, but its operation during droughts could reduce water flow, further destabilising the region. The science is clear: as the climate becomes more variable, transboundary water management will become a security issue.
The international community, including UK-based charities, is preparing for a possible surge in humanitarian needs. The British Red Cross and Oxfam have already pre-positioned supplies. But humanitarian aid is a palliative, not a cure. The root causes are political and environmental.
Abiy’s government must now navigate a narrow path. It needs to deliver tangible benefits to a population that is young, increasingly urban, and aware of global standards of living. Simultaneously, it must manage ethnic tensions, which could be inflamed by resource scarcity. The PM’s promise of “prosperity” will be judged against the backdrop of a warming planet.
There is a calm urgency in this analysis. The data is not ambiguous. Ethiopia’s population is projected to reach 130 million by 2030. Crop yields for staples like teff and maize are likely to decline by 10 to 20 percent in the same period under high-emission scenarios. The convergence of demographic pressure, political centralisation, and climatic stress forms a volatile mixture.
For the UK aid agencies, the alert status is pragmatic. They know that a drought or flood can trigger movements of people, which in turn can lead to communal violence. The electoral mandate does not immunise Ethiopia against physics. The planet’s energy imbalance continues to drive extreme events. The question is not whether but when and where the next disaster will strike.
In conclusion, Prime Minister Abiy’s landslide victory is a political fact, but the future of Ethiopia will be determined as much by the laws of thermodynamics as by the constitution. The world would do well to watch not just the parliament in Addis Ababa, but the rain clouds over the highlands.
