On September 2, Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed granted his special adviser on social affairs, Daniel Kibret, an interview of nearly an hour at the foot of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam.
The two men sat face to face on a small promontory overlooking the dam and, in the distance, the impressive plume of foam from one of the spillways. The Prime Minister addressed his adviser informally, calling him “Danny,” while the latter spoke to his superior with formal respect. Daniel Kibret, who became known outside Ethiopia for his calls to exterminate the Tigrayans during the Tigray war (see our report), set the tone with his first question: “Dear Prime Minister, from this place where we are, a site of great Ethiopian achievement, one inevitably thinks of an even greater one—the Creator. What can one say to Him, who has brought us this far?” This was not surprising from an adviser who entered politics in 2018 in the wake of Abiy’s rise to the premiership, but who is above all known for his reputation as a prolific writer, deacon, and member of a conservative Orthodox Christian association. Abiy’s response, urging a humble thanks to the Lord, confirmed the Prime Minister’s conception of his power—as granted by divine will and of the Ethiopian people, for, in his view, “everyone is a believer in Ethiopia.” Seven days after this communication exercise, on September 9, the day of the inauguration, he began his speech with similar words of thanks.
The religiosity of his remarks contrasts with the original spirit of the dam project. While plans for a dam on the Blue Nile were already discussed under Emperor Haile Selassie, it was Meles Zenawi, Prime Minister from 1991 until his death in 2012, who initiated the project. The dam had several objectives. Equipped with sixteen turbines and expected to generate over 5,000 megawatts, it was part of a determined hydroelectric policy and was meant to provide the electricity needed for Ethiopia’s industrialization. Quickly named the Renaissance Dam, the project was designed to be a symbol of the developmental state—a model conceived by Meles, a distinctive form of Keynesianism in which the state would be the primary investor in the economy and would prevent the emergence of rent-seekers, those parasites and brokers not involved in productive activities, whom Meles Zenawi feared would proliferate if the economy were liberalized.
Meles Zenawi was undoubtedly among the former Marxists (and atheists) who placed primary importance on mobilizing the masses, particularly peasants, as a means to ensure growth and escape from poverty. His speeches often concluded with calls to unite for development or with tributes to the martyrs of the seventeen years of armed struggle that had brought him and his comrades from the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) to the leadership of the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) coalition.
A project financed by the Ethiopians, not by the “Lord”…
Seeing the current Prime Minister thank the Lord rather than the people of Ethiopia is all the more striking given that the dam is the result of a massive effort by the Ethiopian population. The $5 billion (€4.3 billion) cost of the project was almost entirely borne by the Ethiopian people. Admittedly, a Chinese public bank contributed to the financing, but the dam came at a high cost to the population. For several years, Ethiopian civil servants had one month of their salary withheld each year to help fund the dam. In the mid-2010s, some wealthy citizens voluntarily purchased “bonds” to fund the dam, in a collective effort supported by numerous advertisements and mobilization campaigns. “We started it, we will finish it,” one of the slogans referring to the dam, was on its way to becoming a part of everyday language, repeated by employees facing a difficult task as well as by friends enjoying a good meal. While the mandatory deductions made in the name of the dam could be mocked, direct criticism of the project itself was very rare.
Behind this major project also lay a nationalist intent, aimed at uniting Ethiopians from all backgrounds toward development. While in public speeches the EPRDF had, in the 1990s, framed poverty as the enemy to be defeated instead of the military regime, it had also employed a form of post-imperial Ethiopian nationalism during the 1998–2000 war against Eritrea. A decade later, the dam and the mobilization it inspired—expressed in martial terms—were meant to give a new, peaceful purpose to national unity.
The narrative promoted by Abiy Ahmed about the dam reflects a rewriting of history, allowing the Prime Minister to claim ownership of the project. During the Tigray war, which saw the federal government lay siege to the northern Ethiopian region governed by the TPLF, false accounts circulated attributing the conception of the Renaissance Dam to Emperor Haile Selassie rather than Meles Zenawi. In his interview, Abiy Ahmed now claims that during his first visit to the site as Prime Minister in April 2018, there were only a few disorganized huts, even though the project was reportedly 50% complete as early as 2016.
The dam will not bear the name of the engineer who committed suicide
Settling scores, Abiy Ahmed told a loyal adviser that, unlike Lake Nasser, the reservoir of the Renaissance Dam would not bear the name of the statesman who initiated it. In Ethiopia, many would have liked the lake to be named after Semegnew Bekele, the engineer in charge of the project, who became a public figure due to his updates on the dam’s progress. Found dead from a gunshot in his official car on the largest square in Addis Ababa in July 2018, his memory has become a battleground between opponents—particularly Amhara nationalists—and Abiy Ahmed’s government, which many suspect sought to erase the engineer. The massive turnout at his funeral also testified to the popularity of the project itself. In his inauguration speech, Abiy Ahmed confirmed that he had chosen to name the reservoir “Lake of the Dawn.” Yet the success of the mega-project hides other dynamics: in 2022, 55.4% of Ethiopian households had access to electricity, according to the World Bank. While this figure had risen from 23% in 2011 to 44.8% in 2018, its growth has slowed, remaining stable between 2022 and 2023. Wars do not facilitate the installation of electrical infrastructure.
While these figures conceal the sometimes authoritarian policies of the EPRDF—notably the forced villagization of rural households—they above all reflect a shift in paradigm. The current regime seeks to increase electricity production to turn major cities into showcases, not to improve living conditions in the countryside. Addis Ababa has been significantly transformed over the past five years. Entire working-class neighborhoods have been demolished to make way for massive buildings. The “development corridor” projects have led to the expulsion of tens of thousands of residents. Many now have to walk for several hours from distant suburbs to reach their workplaces. Some have even moved into camps for internally displaced people in the Amhara region.
Apartment residents in Addis Ababa are ordered to pay substantial sums to repaint their façades in gray, the color chosen by the Prime Minister. A specific type of lamp must also be installed on the façades, producing an illusion of uniform modernity. The energy from the Renaissance Dam will light up a capital emptied of its popular neighborhoods.
A third of the production for bitcoins
The dam’s capacity of over 5,000 megawatts is also being used for another activity far removed from development: bitcoin mining. In fact, the Renaissance Dam was placed at the service of a narrative promoting cheap electricity in Ethiopia, which, through a murky legislative framework, attracted cryptocurrency companies. Bitcoin production in Ethiopia was even presented as green, since the electricity used came entirely from hydropower. Thus, the energy of the developmental state’s dams ended up fueling one of the most parasitic activities, disconnected from any concrete productive endeavor. By 2025, bitcoin mining was set to siphon off a third of the country’s annual production, prompting the government to put a stop to it this summer.
The example of cryptocurrencies reflects the political economy envisioned by the current regime. From a flagship of collective development—which the EPRDF claimed to spread across the country by opening industrial parks, factories, and plantations (notably sugar) in every region—the dam has become one of the many ultra-secure extractive enclaves that the regime maintains by force of arms.
Elsewhere, the peasant masses that the EPRDF had sought—whether they liked it or not—to “lift out of poverty” are now left to violence. In the Metekel area, about 150 kilometres from the dam, massacres have multiplied in recent years against a backdrop of land disputes. Industrial parks have been looted and partially destroyed, notably during the Tigray war, as have sugar factories—projects abandoned and left to plunder by the federal government.
The Next Project? War
The dam project dominated Ethiopia’s political stage for nearly fifteen years. What will happen now that it has been inaugurated? Abiy Ahmed seems to have chosen the next nationalist project with which to rally the population around a grand cause: regaining access to the sea for a country landlocked since Eritrea’s independence in 1993. Since the autumn of 2023, belligerent statements have multiplied. The Prime Minister and various officials have made no secret of their interest in Eritrea’s port of Assab.
By declaring on September 6 that “the air force is ready,” Abiy fueled fears of an attack on Eritrea. During an inspection of several military bases, the Chief of Staff urged the new naval troops to “be ready at any moment to take their positions at sea.” On the day of the inauguration, presenting the dam as a “second victory of Adwa”—which in 1896 saw Ethiopian armies unite to defeat Italian invaders—the Prime Minister became even more threatening, addressing “our enemies, near or far.” In a forceful tone, he proclaimed: “We Ethiopians, our name is immortal, but our bodies are ready to die (…) to leave eternal traces. (…) It is better not to enter into conflict with us.” After the celebrations, the days ahead could quickly darken.
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