Rulers writing books is not an unusual phenomenon in history, but in modern authoritarian contexts, the act of publishing a political philosophy often carries a far more strategic purpose than intellectual debate. These texts function less as manuals for governance than as instruments for legitimizing personal power. They are symbolic scaffolds, designed to make the state appear guided by moral principle and the leader appear as the interpreter of national destiny.
In this context, Medemer, authored by Ethiopia’s prime minister, operates in a parallel way to Libya’s Green Book by Muammar Gaddafi. Both books present themselves as philosophical interventions: comprehensive systems meant to reconcile society, replace outdated governance, and provide a new vision of collective life. Yet the key similarity lies not in their ideals but in their political utility. Both texts turn language into a medium of control.
The first effect of such works is to shift authority from institutions to the author. By claiming that political renewal, national unity, or social justice can only be achieved through the lens of a single philosophy, the leader transforms dissent into heresy and policy critique into moral failure. In practical terms, the books create a vocabulary that dictates what counts as loyalty, what counts as patriotism, and what is framed as obstruction. It is a form of preemptive legitimacy: the moment the author publishes, the framework of acceptable discourse narrows around their interpretation of “truth.”
Finally, these books operate on a psychological level. By presenting the leader as the sole articulator of a higher vision, they cultivate a dynamic where citizens are listeners first and actors second. Participation is framed as emotional or moral alignment rather than political negotiation. In surgical terms, this is the subtle architecture of authoritarianism: the language of virtue becomes a tool of compliance, and unity becomes a matter of psychological discipline rather than civic consensus.
In short, both Medemer and The Green Book exemplify a particular form of statecraft: a governance model where the written word precedes the law, where ideology substitutes for institutional rigor, and where the leader’s interpretation becomes the final arbiter of legitimacy. By studying these texts, one does not merely encounter ideas; one encounters the mechanics of control disguised as moral philosophy.
What Medemer Claims vs What It Delivers
Medemer positions itself as a philosophy of harmony, moral renewal, and national synergy. Across its volumes, including the fifth book, it repeatedly emphasizes the importance of cooperation, shared destiny, and reconciliation among Ethiopia’s diverse ethnic and political communities. It paints a picture of a society where disputes are resolved through dialogue, and where the nation’s citizens act not as isolated actors but as parts of a moral whole.
Yet the core of the philosophy is largely emotional and moral, rather than procedural or institutional. It outlines how people should feel, not how governance should function. Citizens are urged to internalize unity, but the books provide little guidance on how power is to be distributed, how conflicts are to be mediated, or how institutions are to enforce accountability. The language encourages alignment with the vision of the leader rather than engagement with laws, constitutions, or representative structures.
The disconnect between Medemer’s ideals and the political reality is stark:
Unity vs. Fragmentation: While the book promises national cohesion, Ethiopia has experienced increased internal conflict in the years following its publication. Regional tensions have escalated, and civil wars have intensified. The rhetoric of harmony masks fragmentation rather than resolving it.
Dialogue vs. Monologue: Medemer preaches open discussion and reconciliation, yet the practical National Dialogue has been stalled or co-opted by the executive. Opposition voices are marginalized, silenced, or criminalized. Consultation exists more as a public performance than as genuine participation.
People-Centered Rule vs. Centralized Authority: The books assert that citizens are the foundation of national power, yet real authority has shifted toward the prime minister’s personal decision-making. Institutions meant to mediate, distribute, and check power have been hollowed out, leaving personal discretion as the ultimate arbiter.
Inclusivity vs. Loyalty Tests: Inclusion is repeatedly framed as essential to Medemer. In practice, political loyalty, not diversity of opinion, determines access to influence. Citizens who do not align with the prescribed moral framework are positioned outside the circle of “unity.”
In effect, Medemer transforms civic engagement into moral performance. The books define a vision of the nation that citizens are expected to embody internally, leaving them with less room for negotiation or independent action. Loyalty to the leader becomes a measure of moral alignment, while political pluralism is treated as potential sabotage.
This pattern mirrors the mechanics of Gaddafi’s Green Book, albeit in a more subtle and emotionally coded form. Where the Libyan text created pseudo-institutions like “people’s committees” that centralized authority under the guise of direct democracy, Medemer builds a psychological architecture of obedience. Citizens are not formally stripped of rights, but the moral and emotional framing limits their ability to act independently, creating a soft, pervasive, and largely invisible form of authoritarian control.
The Green Book as Prototype
Muammar Gaddafi’s Green Book, published in the 1970s, provides a historical template for understanding how a political philosophy can function as a tool of personal power. At its core, the text rejects both Western liberal democracy and Marxist socialism, proposing a “Third Universal Theory” in which the people govern directly through committees and congresses. On the surface, it promises direct popular rule, equality, and emancipation from the structures of conventional statehood.
In practice, however, the mechanisms outlined in the book became instruments for consolidating the leader’s authority. “People’s committees” and “popular congresses” replaced parliaments and political parties, but these bodies were largely symbolic. Decisions were centralized, dissent was suppressed, and ideological conformity was enforced under the guise of popular empowerment. What appeared as democratic decentralization was, in reality, a personalist dictatorship cloaked in the language of morality and mass participation.
Several features of The Green Book resonate with the logic of Medemer, despite differences in form:
Ideology as Shield: Both texts frame opposition as illegitimate because it challenges the moral or philosophical framework presented by the leader. In Libya, disagreement with committees was treated as betrayal of “the people”; in Ethiopia, disagreement with the Medemer ethos is framed as opposition to unity itself.
Institutional Substitution: Gaddafi abolished or hollowed out traditional institutions under the pretext of replacing them with more “authentic” structures. Similarly, Medemer promotes dialogue, harmony, and synergy, but in practice institutional mechanisms — the parliament, courts, and independent civil structures — are sidelined or weakened.
Centralization via Ideology: Both leaders demonstrate how a philosophy can operate as a centralizing force. While rhetoric promises empowerment and participation, the ultimate effect is to funnel legitimacy upward, toward the individual author. Obedience to the text becomes obedience to the leader.
Emotional Governance: Gaddafi’s text mobilized affective loyalty by presenting governance as a moral duty; Medemer achieves the same effect by framing unity and reconciliation as a spiritual imperative. Citizens are thus invited to internalize obedience as moral alignment.
The Green Book shows that political philosophy, when authored and enforced by a single individual, can operate more effectively than law or coercion alone. It converts ideology into infrastructure, philosophy into surveillance, and language into loyalty. Medemer, though written in a different context and tone, mirrors this logic in Ethiopia. Both texts reveal that when a leader claims to embody the moral vision of the nation, disagreement is redefined as moral failure, and institutions are hollowed out under the pretense of collective guidance.
