As Ethiopians prepare for a June election, human rights have been backsliding/Shutterstock

This piece is published by Policy in cooperation with McGill University’s Max Bell School of Public Policy as part of our Emerging Voices program, which provides an editorial platform for outstanding graduate students.

By Woyesa Worana

January 26, 2026

“The importance of ensuring the broadest possible civic space in every country cannot be overstated. That space for full, free public participation enables progress on all fronts, including sustainable development and peaceful, fair societies. It ensures a safe future for our connected world.”

— Michelle Bachelet, former UN High Commissioner for Human Rights (2018).

In 2018, the world watched Ethiopia with a sense of rare optimism as Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed(PhD) promised a “burst of new light.” Political prisoners were released, exiled dissidents returned home, and a long-repressive civil society law was replaced with a proclamation that appeared to safeguard the right to organize.

Civil society organizations (CSOs) anticipated a new era of possibilities, with hopes of expanded press freedoms and a more open civic space. Independent media began reporting more freely, civic groups re-emerged, and for many Ethiopians, a future defined by transparency, accountability, and public participation felt within reach.

That moment of optimism, however, proved fleeting. By 2024, the early promise of the 2018 reforms had dimmed. Journalists, CSOs, and activists faced mounting restrictions, while citizens struggled to access reliable information about the decisions that shape their lives.

Civic space had narrowed, and policies affecting millions were often made behind closed doors. What was once celebrated as a democratic opening had given way to a human rights and transparency crisis—one that silenced voices, eroded trust, and weakened the foundations of accountable governance.

As the 2026 elections approach, the urgency for reform has never been greater. Scheduled for June, the national vote will elect members of the House of People’s Representatives. These elections come at a pivotal moment, as debates over security, governance, and civic participation continue to shape the political environment in which the vote will take place.

Ethiopia’s embrace of Chinese development models, particularly in infrastructure and industrial projects, has reshaped the country’s economic landscape. While these investments have supported growth and modernization, they have also sparked discussions about labour conditions, social displacement, and the broader governance context.

Observers note that these challenges occur alongside other domestic human rights issues, underscoring the complexity of balancing rapid development with the protection of civil and political freedoms.

These development strategies, while fostering economic growth, take place in a political environment where civic space and transparency are under pressure, highlighting the difficult trade-offs policymakers face in ensuring both prosperity and rights protection.

Now, across Ethiopia, the signs of shrinking civic space are unmistakable. On December 4, 2024, the CIVICUS Monitor released a report that downgraded Ethiopia’s civic space to “closed,” its most severe classification, citing systematic constraints on freedoms of expression, association, and assembly.

Ethiopia serves as a reminder that democracy does not fade all at once—it recedes quietly, when voices slip into the shadows and scrutiny gives way to silence.

The media landscape tells a similarly grim story. In the Reporters Without Borders 2025 Press Freedom Index, Ethiopia scored a mere 36 out of 100, ranking 145 out of 180 countries—falling into the “very serious” category. Furthermore, over 1,500 NGOs have faced arbitrary closures or severe operational restrictions.

Proposed amendments to the CSOs law threaten to further increase government oversight, limit foreign funding, and curb advocacy activities. With the 2026 national elections approaching, these measures represent a stark reversal from the openness and hope that marked the early reform period.

As civic space contracts, the consequences extend far beyond institutions; they reach the dinner tables and livelihoods of everyday Ethiopians. Journalists, community leaders, activists, and civil society workers increasingly face pressure to self-censor. Legal uncertainty, surveillance, and administrative harassment make it risky to report local problems or question authorities.

This environment creates a dangerous vacuum of information. When civic oversight weakens, budget priorities go unexplained, service failures go unreported, and policies advance with minimal scrutiny. These gaps hit hardest for women, rural communities, and marginalized ethnic groups, who rely on local civic networks for advocacy and information.

International monitors note that many organizations now refrain from publishing community findings or feedback, not because needs have vanished, but because speaking openly has become unsafe.

Ethiopian authorities often frame these restrictions as a necessary trade-off for national security. However, both history and comparative research teach a different lesson. Civic space acts as a societal pressure valve: when citizens can organize, report problems, and advocate peacefully, grievances are addressed before they ferment into violence.

When those channels close, frustration does not disappear; it goes underground. By constraining peaceful participation, the state risks replacing dialogue with silence—and silence with instability. Far from strengthening national cohesion, shrinking civic space cuts leaders off from public feedback, undermining the very security the government claims to protect.

For the international community and Canadian policymakers, Ethiopia’s trajectory carries broader relevance. Canada’s own democratic framework demonstrates that transparency is not an  “add-on” to stable governance; it is a prerequisite.

Ethiopia’s current path illustrates what happens when these mechanisms are weakened: policy loses credibility, implementation gaps widen, and public confidence erodes.

Reversing this trend will require deliberate and decisive choices. Ethiopia’s path forward depends on four key pillars of reform:

1. CSOs must be able to operate freely without fear of arbitrary closure. This includes reversing the proposed amendments to the CSOs law. Protecting civil societies enable them to serve as a watchdog, amplify community concerns, and ensure public policies are subject to scrutiny.
2. Journalists require strong legal protections to investigate public affairs—from budget allocations to service delivery without retaliation. A free press is essential to restoring transparency and ensuring citizens have access to reliable information.
3. Policymakers should institutionalize meaningful channels for public participation, such as participatory budgeting and community consultations. These tools allow citizens to contribute to decision-making, hold leaders accountable, and ensure policies reflect lived realities, particularly for women, rural communities, and marginalized groups.
4. International partners and multilateral institutions can reinforce these reforms by providing development and technical assistance with measurable improvements in civic freedoms and transparency. External accountability can help sustain momentum where domestic safeguards are under strain.

By embracing these pillars, Ethiopia can begin to reverse the erosion of civic space, rebuild trust, and turn transparency into a practical safeguard for democracy. Openness is not a threat to stability—it is the bedrock of sustainable development and social cohesion.

For Ethiopians, reopening civic space offers more than institutional reform. It promises a society in which citizens’ voices matter, accountability is tangible, and people can help shape the decisions that shape their lives.

For the world watching closely as the June 1st election appraoches, Ethiopia serves as a reminder that democracy does not fade all at once—it recedes quietly, when voices slip into the shadows and scrutiny gives way to silence.

A nation’s true strength is not found in the forced silence of its people, but in the vibrant richness of their shared ideas. It is not too late for the government to trade the cold weight of the shadows for the warmth of an open society.

Woyesa Worana is a graduate student at the Max Bell School of Public Policy, McGill University. He holds a law degree from Hawassa University and serves as a human rights advocate with HALE-Human Rights and Inclusion Network.