The Cry for Dialogue: A Call to Peacemaking in Ethiopia

By Zelalem Eshete, Ph.D.
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The problems facing Ethiopia today are deeply complex. The ongoing conflict, relentless fighting, and widespread suffering feel overwhelming—like centuries of unresolved wounds, political turmoil, and mistrust have all collapsed into a single painful moment. It’s not just a crisis of governance or ideology—it’s a crisis of humanity.

Yet, as daunting as the situation is, I do not believe the conflict is unsolvable. The tragedy lies not only in the violence itself, but in the silence where dialogue should have been. Conversations that might have built understanding were never given the chance. Listening has given way to shouting. Empathy has been drowned out by suspicion.

Had there been real dialogue—humble, honest, sustained—we might have seen a way forward. Not an easy path. Not a quick fix. But a genuine, gradual journey toward peace. True peace is not born of silence or enforced submission. It emerges through courageous conversation and the willingness to see one another as human. We must pray that God raises voices of wisdom and softens hearts to hear again.

The Noise Without Understanding

In today’s Ethiopia, much of what passes for dialogue is little more than shouting. We raise our voices not to understand, but to accuse, to defend, to dominate. We do not pause to listen with empathy, nor make the effort to step into another’s shoes. And because we do not listen, we label.

Labeling dehumanizes. Once someone is seen as “the enemy,” it becomes easier to justify harm. War becomes palatable. Killing turns into a twisted act of virtue. And the casualties—real people with families, dreams, and dignity—become mere statistics.

But every number has a name. Every death is a story cut short. Every casualty is a soul.

This is the cost of losing our ability to listen with love. We are bleeding because we have forgotten how to hear. And only a spirit of humility can break this cycle. Only a renewed vision of shared humanity can rescue us from dehumanization. We need peacemakers—not those who speak to be heard, but those who speak to understand.

The Divine Call to Peacemaking

Why should we bother advocating for dialogue when hope feels out of reach? Because to be a peacemaker is divine.

Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God” (Matthew 5:9). Peacemaking is not just a noble ideal—it is a sacred calling. It reflects the very heart of God. When we pursue peace, we step into our true identity as His children.

At our lowest point—when human solutions fail and despair creeps in—God does not call us to escape, nor to resign in silence. He calls us to make peace. Not because it’s easy. Not because it guarantees results. But because it is right. Because it’s what children of God do. To be a peacemaker is to carry the heart of heaven into the brokenness of earth.

Listening to the Voice of Blood

So, what is our goal?

At its most basic, it is to recover the lost art of listening. But not just listening to the loudest voices—the leaders, the ideologues, the power brokers. No. We must listen to the voice of blood.

We must hear the silent cry of the fallen soldier on one side, and the fallen peasant on the other. The ones who bleed and die while those in power remain untouched. It is their blood that cries from the ground—and it is their voice we must heed.

This is where our unity must begin: not with political alignment, but with shared compassion. We must stop dividing ourselves along the fault lines of leadership and ideology. Those who perish on either side are our brothers and sisters. They are not the enemy. They are family. We share a deeper bond than politics—we are united by our common humanity.

A Way Forward

Solutions demand dialogue. Dialogue requires conversation. And conversation begins when the blood stops crying out from the ground. This means we must seek a ceasefire—not just of weapons, but of hearts hardened by hatred. We must make space for listening. For compassion. For reconciliation.

May God awaken a spirit of humility across this land. May He raise up peacemakers who speak less to win and more to heal. And may He grant Ethiopia not only political resolution—but moral restoration.
Because the future of a nation does not rest in the hands of the loudest voices, but in the hearts willing to listen and the courage to choose peace.