From Diffused Authority to Functional Order: Why Tigray is Rebuilding its Capacity to Act

This is not a competition for political space. It is the work of assembling a foundation that can carry the weight of our collective survival.

Tigray has entered a phase that many are observing, few are fully understanding, and not all are interpreting in the same way. Over the past weeks, the discussion has been dominated by extensions, statements, and competing interpretations. At the surface level, it has looked like a prolonged period of uncertainty. In my observation, however, this may not be a static situation at all. There seems to be a sequence of internal movements which, when followed carefully, suggest something more deliberate. What looks like uncertainty on the surface may, in fact, be a process of reorganization taking shape beneath it: not a pause, but a movement from suspension toward structure.

It appears to have started at the level of the Central Committee, then extended toward the military command structure, followed by deliberations at woreda and zonal levels, and now seems to have reached a broader cadre-level consolidation in Mekelle. Taken together, this sequence does not read like a reaction. It looks more like an attempt at reconstitution.

Before going further, one clarification seems necessary, because this is where much of the confusion begins. In my observation, many people are still interpreting what is happening as a disagreement between individuals, or as a power struggle between institutions. Some even dismiss the current effort by selectively citing constitutional provisions, as if the situation we are in reflects a normal constitutional environment. I think this is where the reading becomes misleading.

Both the Ethiopian constitution and the Tigray regional constitutional framework were designed to operate under conditions where institutions are intact, authority is continuous, and governance structures function without interruption. In my view, this is where much of the current misunderstanding begins. These frameworks were not designed for a situation where territories are contested, millions are displaced, and governance itself has been physically disrupted. A constitutional text may still exist on paper, but its normal operation assumes that the institutional chain behind it is still standing. The reality Tigray has been living through in recent years does not match that assumption. War, displacement, external pressure, and institutional interruption have not simply created political tension: they have altered the operating environment itself in a fundamental way. So when constitutional provisions are applied mechanically, without accounting for this disruption, they may produce conclusions that appear legally consistent, but remain structurally incomplete and detached from the reality people are living.

In my view, the interim period created a condition where authority existed, but not in a fully structured or anchored form. Responsibilities were carried, but without a complete institutional foundation. Decisions were made, but often without a stable legislative backing that could sustain them over time.

So when the current developments are judged using a narrow procedural reading of the constitution, without considering the breakdown that preceded them, it tends to produce conclusions that do not fully capture the situation. I think what we are seeing now is not a departure from constitutional logic, but an attempt to restore its functional meaning under disrupted conditions. It appears to be a movement from a diffused authority structure, which emerged out of necessity during the interim period, toward a more functional authority structure that can make decisions, carry responsibility, and act with coherence.

If read this way, the process begins to make sense. If not, it continues to appear as confusion, even when it may be correcting one.

The decision to recall the 2020 Baito must be understood in this context. In many discussions, the Baito is described simply as a parliament, but that description does not fully capture its role in this moment. It represents the only institution that carries a direct electoral mandate from the people of Tigray from before the disruption. When it was set aside during the interim arrangement, that decision was made to reduce immediate pressure, but it created a space where governance continued without a fully anchored legislative structure. Such a space can function during a crisis, but it cannot sustain long-term coherence.

Recalling the Baito is not a political maneuver: it is an attempt to re-anchor authority within the last institution that the people directly chose. This distinction is important because the issue is not simply whether an old body is being brought back, but whether the last institution carrying a direct electoral mandate can again serve as a constitutional center under disrupted conditions. Whether it succeeds or not will depend on how it is implemented, but the direction itself addresses a structural gap that the interim arrangement could not fully resolve. The sequence of alignments that followed also seems significant: the engagement with the TDF and the joint command suggests that the process is not being confined to a single political structure but is expanding into a broader system of collective responsibility.

To understand the logic of this shift, we must revisit the concept of መኸተ (Mekhete). In most conversations, it is narrowly understood as a purely military defense: a shield against physical aggression. However, in its truest sense, መኸተ is the collective system through which Tigray organizes its very survival, encompassing our political, social, and institutional resilience. In my view, the critical issue is to ensure that political authority and this system of survival are not moving on separate tracks: aligning political decisions with መኸተ structures is not about militarizing our politics, but about ensuring that our governance is anchored in the same collective strength that preserved our existence when the formal systems failed. Without this alignment, political decisions risk remaining formal declarations that carry little practical weight in the lives of our people.

If that broader understanding is applied, then aligning political decisions with መኸተ structures becomes essential. Otherwise, decisions risk existing formally, without holding practically.

The subsequent movement toward woreda and zonal levels also seems to follow a similar logic. It may look repetitive from the outside, but I think it functions as a form of consolidation. It allows decisions to be absorbed across layers of the structure, reducing the risk that implementation will depend on a narrow center.

Now the process appears to be approaching a more technical and delicate phase. Based on the developments so far, this phase is likely to involve recalling elected Baito members, addressing vacant seats, engaging other political and መኸተ forces, and shaping the executive structure. It may also involve defining how decisions are made under current conditions.

Here, one issue seems particularly important, because it is often misunderstood.

There is a common assumption that political strength is primarily derived from having a simple majority. While that may be sufficient under stable conditions, I think the current situation requires a different reading.

A majority allows control. But control alone may not be enough to produce stability in the kind of environment Tigray is currently in. From the outside, it may look like division, confusion, or even fragmentation. And I understand why some people describe it that way.

But in my observation, that reading does not go deep enough.

Because beneath the visible disagreements, there is still something that has not broken. Across political lines, across different opinions, and even among those who are critical of TPLF, there seems to be a shared instinct that is difficult to ignore: very few accept the idea that Tigray should submit, or reorganize itself in a way that serves external pressure.

This does not always appear as unity in expression. It often comes out as disagreement, frustration, or even mistrust. But that does not mean the underlying position is absent. In many cases, it is simply not coordinated.

So what looks like fragmentation at the surface may also be read, in another way, as unstructured alignment: a situation where people are not yet moving together, but are not moving in opposite directions either.

In that kind of environment, I think stability depends less on numerical advantage, and more on shared legitimacy, and on whether a structure can emerge that brings that underlying alignment into a coordinated form. This is why the question of legitimacy becomes more important than the question of majority. A majority can control a vote. But under the kind of pressure Tigray is facing, control alone may not be enough to produce cohesion. What seems more decisive is whether different forces can see themselves inside the structure strongly enough to carry its decisions, even where they do not control it.

In that sense, the absence of a super-majority may not necessarily be a weakness. It may function as a constraint that requires engagement with other actors, and in doing so may strengthen the search for internal cohesion. It may encourage negotiation and alignment, rather than unilateral decision-making. In my view, this kind of constraint, while difficult, can become a mechanism for building broader ownership of the process. Under current conditions, that may matter more than the comfort of simple control.

Another aspect that appears to require careful handling is the position of General Tadesse. Public discussions around this have often been framed in binary terms: either full alignment or open confrontation. But based on what I observed from his recent interviews, I think the situation may be more nuanced than that.

In his own words, one of the major sources of mistrust between the federal system and Tigray is the slow and incomplete implementation of the core elements of the Pretoria Agreement. I think this is an important point, and it reflects a reality that many people recognize. In that sense, he was relatively clear in identifying where the central problem lies.

At the same time, I also feel that this clarity has not been matched by corresponding use of the authority he held over the past year. Identifying a bottleneck is one thing; using a political position to apply pressure or shift outcomes is another. From what I have observed, that second part has remained limited.

Because of this, I don’t think the question should be framed simply as whether he is right or wrong, or whether he should stay or leave. The more relevant question, in my opinion, is whether his position can function differently within a more structured and coherent authority system.

In a transition like this, continuity can sometimes play a stabilizing role, especially when external relations and internal restructuring are happening simultaneously. If a functioning authority emerges, one that is able to define direction and carry collective legitimacy, then figures like Tadesse, or whoever comes to his position, may operate with clearer boundaries and more effective alignment. Under such conditions, his earlier clarity regarding the federal bottlenecks could potentially be translated into a more constructive role. Without such a structure, however, individual positioning tends to remain limited, regardless of intent. In that sense, the issue may not be whether one individual remains important, but whether the authority around him becomes strong enough to turn partial clarity into actual political utility.

So I think the issue is not simply about inclusion or exclusion, but about whether the broader system being formed is strong enough to absorb different roles and make them function toward a common objective. If handled carefully, this kind of calibrated continuity may help maintain necessary communication channels while internal authority is being consolidated. If handled abruptly, it risks introducing additional friction at a sensitive moment that already requires precision.

Looking at the broader trajectory, a pattern begins to emerge. For an extended period, Tigray seems to have been operating under conditions where authority was either delayed, externally constrained, or internally diffused. That condition appears to have created fatigue, uncertainty, and openings for fragmentation.

What seems to be happening now is a shift away from that condition. Whether this shift will fully materialize is still an open question, but the direction appears to be toward restoring a structure that can define, coordinate, and implement decisions. In my view, time is also becoming a critical factor, because delays at this stage may carry increasing cost. This is why I do not think the underlying issue is simply political competition. It is, more fundamentally, a question of capacity: whether Tigray can reconstitute an authority able not only to exist, but to act coherently.

What is often described as “peace” in the current context does not necessarily mean resolution. In many ways, it refers to a condition where open conflict is paused, but the core issues of territorial control, displacement, and political authority remain unresolved. Such a condition may reduce immediate tension, and that should not be dismissed lightly. But when it exists without the ability to make decisions and carry them through, it can also create a prolonged state of suspension: a space where responsibility is diffused, direction is unclear, and structural problems remain in place. In my view, that is the real danger of confusing pause with a settlement.

Over time, this kind of suspension does not stabilize institutions. It gradually weakens them.

This, in my observation, is the risk that current developments are attempting to address.

Ultimately, the situation in Tigray is not about choosing between different actors or competing political narratives. It is a fundamental question of whether we continue to operate within a diffused, weakening structure or gradually reconstitute a functional authority that can carry responsibility and act with coherence. We are at a critical junction where delays carry an increasing cost to our survival. The current direction of movement will determine whether our authority becomes functional again or remains dispersed. This is not a moment of political competition: it is the quiet, difficult work of structural assembly.

ትግራይ ትስዕር！ሰላም ንህዝብና！