In a move that has sent shockwaves through the international community and caused a collective tutting from the UK's foreign office, Ethiopia has announced the suspension of voting in areas it has delicately termed 'security hotspots.' This is diplomatic code for 'places where people might vote for the wrong person,' or more accurately, 'places where the government's opponents live.'
The decision, delivered with the solemnity of a man announcing the cancellation of Christmas due to a lack of mince pies, has been met with urgent calls for 'stability' from the British government. Because nothing says 'we care about democracy' quite like asking a government that just cancelled an election to please be a bit more stable about it.
Let us dissect this farce, shall we? Ethiopia, a nation with a proud history of stable governance and free elections (I say this with the same enthusiasm a chef uses to describe a salad that's been left in the sun for three days), has decided that the best way to ensure a fair vote is to not have a vote at all. It's like a football manager cancelling a match because his team is losing, citing 'pitch insecurity.'
The UK, ever the global conscience, has urged 'all parties to exercise restraint and engage in dialogue.' This is the diplomatic equivalent of telling your mate's argument with his girlfriend to 'calm down' while hiding behind a sofa. The British government, which once colonised the very country it's now lecturing, has a track record of offering advice that is as useful as a chocolate teapot in a heatwave.
But let's not be too hard on them. After all, the UK has its own electoral issues. Who could forget the time their own elections resulted in a parliament so hung it could have been a gallery of modern art? Or the delightful spectacle of three prime ministers in one year? Yes, the British are true experts on political stability. They should write a book. It could be titled 'How to Lose an Empire and Confuse Everyone in the Process.'
Meanwhile, back in Ethiopia, the suspension of voting has been justified with the chillingly bureaucratic phrase 'for the security of the citizens.' This is the same logic that would see a dentist remove all your teeth to prevent toothache. The government has identified a number of 'hotspots' where, presumably, the temperature of democracy got a bit too high for their liking. These are areas where the opposition has strong support, or where people have the audacity to complain about the price of bread.
The international community, with the UK at the helm of the 'tutting brigade,' has called for Ethiopia to 'reconsider and ensure inclusive participation.' This is like asking a fox to reconsider the henhouse's menu. The Ethiopian government will nod politely, say they will 'look into it,' and then proceed to do exactly what they were going to do anyway. Because that's how diplomacy works: a lot of talking, a lot of hand-wringing, and absolutely bugger-all action.
In the end, Ethiopia will hold its election. Some people will vote. Some people won't. And the winners will be those who control the levers of power, the ballot boxes, and the security forces. Democracy: it's the worst form of government, except for all the others. Unless you happen to live in a 'security hotspot.' Then it's just a very bad joke.
As I pour myself another gin (the only stable element in this whole sordid affair), I raise a glass to the irony of it all. The UK, a country that has spent centuries perfecting the art of political chaos, is now urging stability in another nation. It's like an arsonist advising on fire safety. But hey, at least the gin is cheap.
