About six months ago I was invited to an Eritrean wedding reception. Nearly a thousand people showed up on the first day of the reception and about five hundred of them were present on the second day. There were lots of dancing, laughing, drum beating, ululating and yes … more dancing. I am sure every outsider observing that event would conclude that Eritreans are full of love with an unbreakable bond. However, throughout the reception I couldn’t help but wonder if it is truly our love and our bond or something else that’s driving people to events like this in droves.

Soon after, a friend of mine asked me to accompany him to a funeral. Again there were lots of people there to say good bye to the departed. This time it seemed silly to me that many people could cry hysterically for a ninety year old man who passed away of old age and ignoring the fact that they are remotely related to whom they mourn for. May be I should have used a different example but anyway …

I have heard explanations such as “It is our culture. It is our tradition. We are religious. We gather and dance even if we are not invited, and we cry for someone even if we are not related.” Really?

If that is the case, I ask myself, then how is it that we are unable to gather when we really need to, and we are unable to break out in tears when we actually come across very sad moments? We claim that we are God fearing people, and yet he tells us “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position.”

By now, I hope you already know where I am heading. When we lost 367 young Eritreans on the coast of Lampedusa in just one day, I thought we would stay true to our rich tradition and religion but we did not. It’s been over a decade since the repression in Eritrea has gotten so bad that it became unbearable for hundreds of thousands of people, causing them to flee their country through dangerous routes. And yet, we don’t see enough Eritreans gathering to discuss and come up with a solution.        

I believe we are having a deep and encompassing moral deficit, a loss of compassion, and obliviousness for the common good. I remember someone saying “Ertrawyan nmeswaeti ember nmot aynferHn ena.” Roughly translated as “We Eritreans are not afraid of death, but martyrdom”. This statement sums up how much we are preoccupied by our own individual needs with no regard to the sufferings of our brethren. It also explains our failure to seek a comprehensive solution for our collective problem.

We are now at the beginning of a new year, a great opportunity to reevaluate our priorities and gain new experiences with which we can make a difference in our lives and in our society. 

As pro-justice Eritreans, we have been mainly focused on building our movements, demonstrations, meetings, infighting and projects; as these are very imperative and unavoidable steps for any successful movement. The good news is that while the youthful opposition is in its infant stage, the aging dictatorship in Eritrea is and will be unable to stop the clock from ticking towards the regime’s demise. The bad news? The lost opportunity has being costing us too many lives while repression, hardship, bigotry, hatred and negative social norms have been thriving.

 The question then becomes how do we regain this loss of compassion?

It is now a common knowledge that fundamental and comprehensive change in Eritrea is the only solution to our predicament. Even if we succeed in removing PFDJ, as a society we will still need to heal our internal moral deficit and regain our humanity which compassion is an integral part of. That’s why a new type of engagement with the silent majority is critically needed in the fuller and more important sense. Instead of just focusing on PFDJ, we will also need to win the hearts and minds of Eritreans who are completely disengaged from Eritrean realities. I believe it will take extensive campaigns and creative ways to engage with the disengaged majority. There needs to be a consensus that we are victims of our own creation and the only way to pull ourselves out of this affliction is by changing the political system in parallel with a social change. That is, removing PFDJ should go hand in hand with a shift in the collective consciousness of our society.

We must appeal to the conscience of our silent brothers and sisters and raise their desires for a truly humane involvement. We must let them know that counting PFDJ atrocities in every occasion and during every coffee ceremony is not enough. We must engage them in discussions about how our failure to act is contributing to the sufferings of our people. We must highlight that blaming others can’t be a solution at all. We must make it known that responsibility begins at home. We must find a way to break through the deeply entrenched fear, mistrust and hopelessness among people. We must regain Eritrean pride, dignity, self-esteem and hope through our steadfast commitment and service to one another and standing up in unity for justice.

The true nature of our heritage should define who we are as Eritreans. The new lighthearted and negative social norm (entay gedeseni) has brought down our nation to its knees and we can’t afford to not care any longer. As we practice our cultural and religious traditions, shouldn’t we pause to think that those traditions are nothing, but empty if we cannot follow them in their proper context to show our love and our bond with those who truly need it? 

Tomas Solomon