The landslide re-election of Abiy Ahmed as Ethiopia's prime minister was never in doubt. The real question is what he does next. His sweeping victory, announced Thursday by the National Electoral Board, hands him a renewed mandate to pursue an agenda that has left the region teetering on the edge of chaos.
Abiy's Prosperity Party scooped up 410 of the 438 parliamentary seats, a total that sources close to the count say came with the usual heavy-handed tactics. Opposition parties cried foul, but their complaints were drowned out by the prime minister's victory lap. In a televised address from the National Palace in Addis Ababa, Abiy spoke of 'renewed commitment to democratisation and economic growth.' But few in the Horn of Africa buy that line.
What is clear is that Abiy's grip on power is now absolute. And that has neighbouring governments jittery. A senior official in the Somali government, speaking on condition of anonymity because he was not authorised to discuss the matter, told me: 'We are watching developments in Addis Ababa with great concern. The PM's rhetoric about historical grievances and territorial integrity has not abated. We fear he may be emboldened by this mandate to pursue a more aggressive foreign policy.'
Those fears are rooted in a string of recent events. In January, Ethiopia signed a controversial deal with the breakaway region of Somaliland, granting it recognition in exchange for port access. Mogadishu called the deal an act of aggression. The African Union condemned it. But Abiy pressed on, calling it a necessary step for his landlocked country's access to the sea. Now, with a resounding victory, he seems poised to double down.
Behind the scenes, documents I have obtained show that the Ethiopian military has been redeploying units from the northern Tigray region to the Somali border. The pretext is joint anti-terror operations with Somalia, but independent analysts say the numbers and positions suggest preparation for a possible incursion. 'This is not about al-Shabaab,' a retired Ethiopian general, still with deep connections in the defence establishment, told me. 'This is about securing the port deal. They are ready to fight for it.'
The timing is worrying. With the United States distracted by its own election cycle and the European Union focused on Ukraine, the Horn of Africa is sliding down the international priority list. That leaves a power vacuum that Abiy is eager to fill. 'He senses an opportunity,' said a Western diplomat based in Nairobi. 'He believes he can reshape the region in his image before anyone pays attention.'
Inside Ethiopia, the victory consolidates a regime that has already shown it is willing to use force to silence dissent. Opposition leaders remain jailed. Independent media are shuttered. And in the Amhara region, ethnic violence continues unabated. Human Rights Watch released a report on Wednesday detailing extrajudicial killings by government forces. The government dismissed it as propaganda.
The international community's response has been muted. The UK Foreign Office issued a statement 'noting the election results' and 'urging all parties to exercise restraint.' No sanctions. No threats. Nothing that would give Abiy pause. 'They are afraid of pushing him into the arms of China or Russia,' the retired general added. 'So they let him get away with murder.'
The potential for conflict is real. Somalia has already appealed to the Arab League and the UN Security Council for support. Egypt, locked in its own dispute with Ethiopia over the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam, views the government's rising power with alarm. 'This is a tinderbox,' said Rashid Abdi, a veteran Horn of Africa analyst. 'A small spark could set the whole region ablaze. And with Abiy's victory, the match is in his hand.'
As I write this, the streets of Addis Ababa are quiet. But the quiet before the storm is unmistakable. The landslide has not brought peace. It has brought a dangerous certainty. And in the Horn of Africa, that is the most dangerous thing of all.