Africa has lost one of its most brilliant minds and one of its most compassionate souls. Andreas Esheté, philosopher, public intellectual and mentor to many, passed away on the 29th of August 2024 and was laid to rest in Addis Ababa on Sunday the 8th of September 2024. His death deprives us of a towering African intellectual and an extraordinarily humane person.
The news of Andreas’s passing engulfed me in a wave of shock and sorrow. I was not alone. In the following days, tributes were paid to him from across the globe, their extent clearly demonstrating how many lives have been touched through Andreas’s life and accomplishments. Andreas was not only a philosopher and a prominent advocate for the betterment of the human condition in Africa and beyond; to me he was the mentor who played a crucial role in my life. Hence, this personal reflection on the life and influence of a man who was supererogatory, consistently going above what was required and beyond the limits of academia and public service to leave a lasting legacy with those fortunate enough to know him.
I first encountered Andreas as a public intellectual on TV before he became my professor, later a friend, then my boss, and ultimately a brother figure. My first personal encounter with him took place in early 1996 when he was chair in the preparations for the Adwa Centenary commemoration. I was then a student at Addis Ababa University. Andreas became the driving force behind my decision to enrol in his courses in law school not least because of his deep understanding of the grave human rights violations against my family. Once enrolled, I planned to ask him – and nobody else – to become my thesis supervisor. In his classes and under his guidance for my thesis, I learned a great deal from Andreas. For me, three things stood out that made him special: his profound intellect and public intellectualism, his compassion, and his friendship.
The philosopher of fraternity: the often-neglected ideal
Andreas’s life and work exemplified multiple types of intelligence (to borrow Sternberg’s Triarchic Theory) and his componential-analytical gifts endowed him with perspectives rarely seen in others. Globally, he will perhaps be best known for his rich analyses in ‘Fraternity,’ in the Review of Metaphysics, Volume 35, published in 1981. In her book On Beauty and Being Just published by Princeton University Press in 1999, Elaine Scarry, a Harvard University Aesthetics Professor and one of today’s leading intellectuals, depicted Andreas as a ‘turn-of-the-millennium philosopher… who [argues] that of the revolutionary triad – liberty, equality, fraternity – it is fraternity… that underwrites liberty and equality… hence also fraternity that underwrites liberal theories of justice’.
Scarry places Andreas alongside other foundational philosophers, underscoring his original perspective on ethical justice and fairness. By arguing that fraternity and solidarity are cornerstones of freedom and equality in the revolutionary trinity – and consequently in liberal concepts of justice – he becomes a significant figure in debates around moral ethics and justice.
Scarry’s recognition of Andreas’s work points to the parallel between creating for beauty and creating for justice, as the latter (procedure for justice as fairness) is articulated by Andreas himself and by his favourite political philosopher, the much-quoted John Rawls.
Scarry further elucidates how Andreas’s work – along with that of John Rawls – on the procedure of creating justice applies beyond political theory to illuminate the creation of beauty itself:
‘Another feature shared by the kind of creation we undertake on behalf of beauty and the kind of creation we undertake on behalf of justice has been suggested by political philosopher Andreas Eshete. In both realms, the object that one aspires to create may be completely known, partially known, or completely unknown to the creator. It is precisely on this basis that John Rawls differentiates three forms of justice: in “perfect justice” we know the outcome we aspire to achieve as well as the procedure by which that outcome can be brought about (food should be shared equally, and we can ensure this outcome by arranging that the person who slices the cake is also the last to select his own slice); in “imperfect justice” we know the outcome we aspire to achieve, and we know the procedure that gives us the best chance of approximating this outcome (persons guilty of a crime should be convicted and innocent persons should go free; a jury trial gives us the best hope of achieving this outcome, though it by no means guarantees it); in “pure procedural justice,” finally, we have no picture of the best outcome, and we must trust wholly in the fairness of the procedures to ensure that the outcome itself is fair (here equality of opportunity is Rawls’s illustration).’
This brilliance, manifested in his publications and lectures, has been affirmed by one of his teachers and an authority on Hegel and Aristotle, Prof Kenley Dove, who sprang to Andreas’s defence when pundits in Ethiopia questioned his academic standing upon his appointment as President of Addis Ababa University.
Andreas’s creative intelligence was also evident in his innovative philosophical contributions, not only on fraternity but also on Ethiopian modernity and in his writings on recent Ethiopian constitutional issues. In these as in his other works, one could discern an interweaving of fraternity as a central value and as an imperative in diverse societies such as Ethiopia (and most other African countries). He asserted, ‘The public ideals realized in the modern age are ideals for all human beings. In that sense, fraternity is a central idea of modernity. It is undeniable that modernity provides the possibility of shared values, aims and bonds amongst all human beings and peoples… hence the modern form of solidarity I call fraternity. Indeed, it is striking that it is only in the modern age that we are all contemporaries. Modernity is the era where humanity shares a common destiny.’
The public intellectual: critical reflections
In his 2011 lecture ‘How Ethiopia Became Modern”, Andreas turned to the illusions harboured by his generation’s commitment to lofty principles of socialism. He argued for the importance of taking seriously “two brute facts of society: coercion and scarcity”. His reflections demonstrated a rare ability to critically examine his own generation’s assumptions and failures. Andreas accepted, perhaps painfully, the failure of his generation to bring its ideals into practice in the real world: “Even though it may not have prompted change in the institutions and practices of the practical world [sic], Ethiopian modernism furnished a powerful expression of the ethos of modernity.” Andreas’s practical-adaptive intelligence dealt with the mental activity involved in attaining fit to context. He tried to work with whatever is available and adapt to local realities.
At the triple convergence of academia, policy, and practice, Andreas exemplified the role of a “public intellectual” and jurisprudential scholar through his proactive engagement and public articulation of differing stances (for example, his proposal for the judicial review and abolishment of the death penalty) during the drafting of the Ethiopian federal constitution – a bold instrument that sought to depart from Ethiopia’s past political and economic structures, addressing the pivotal issues of his generation, including the “nationalities question,” the “land issue”, and the question of equality in religions and gender. In the same vein, his incisive article, “Does a Lawyer’s Character Matter?“, offers insight into his thinking on lawyers’ moral and ethical dilemmas while performing their profession in society and their responsibilities as advocates.
This trait made Andreas a daring public intellectual with bold proposals that tried to bridge the gap between philosophical theories and policy and practice. In his effort to apply a kind of reflective equilibrium – to use another Rawls concept he often cited – Andreas did not simply stagnate in the face of the status quo and in the name of pragmatism. Nor was he an idealist with illusions – a characteristic he attached to the failure of his generation to materialise the lofty ideal of transforming Ethiopia’s agrarian society to a socialist one. Andreas pointed out with cold clarity but dazzling presentation his generation’s “illusions”. He articulated the follies of socialism without constitutional accountability and constraints on power, while remaining to the end a stern critic of capitalism and neoliberalism. I like to believe his thoughts were most often those of a liberal social democrat, and in his disposition akin to the oft-quoted Rawls, one of the twentieth century’s preeminent liberal philosophers.
Andreas cared about the global human condition in general and more patriotically about those in Ethiopia. He loved his country and cherished the hope for a new Ethiopia that is just and that provides material well-being. He believed that fraternity is vital in this effort and in healing a nation mired in extreme poverty, especially given Ethiopia’s painful history of oppression, continual war, endemic violence, and governmental malfeasance.
In “Reflections on Expanding Ethiopia’s Democratic Space” (31 December 2018), co-authored with our common very close friend, the Ethiopian prominent academic and diplomat Samuel Assefa, he observed of the 2018 political change in Ethiopia: “Of late, in the wake of protracted public protests… there are signs… of a turn to a more open and freer political space… It is important to ascertain [whether these steps] are also expressive of a standing aspiration to create an enduring democratic space of wider scope. Does the release of dissidents and the decriminalisation of opposition parties demonstrate a full commitment to the rule of law, essential to the creation of a free and open democratic space?”
Andreas offered fresh proposals on building a more just society based on fraternity and solidarity in an Ethiopian reality full of “unfavourable conditions for liberal democracy” (another concept he would borrow from Rawls). Andreas never construed “fraternity” as being in contradiction to “diversity” or various identities. In his eyes, it was precisely because of the presence of diversity that fraternity was necessary.
Bridging theory and practice
Andreas was not content with purely theoretical work; he practised in public what he preached in academia, serving as President of AAU and as Chair of the Ethiopian Adwa Centenary Commemoration Committee, his work consistently aiming to bridge the gap between philosophical ideals and practical realities. As the leading personality in the National Committee for the commemoration of Adwa’s centenary, Andreas made “the Victory of Adwa [as] the victory of Africa” a central theme that aimed to foster fraternity among Ethiopians, Africans and all other freedom-loving people in the way it brought together diverse ethnic groups for a common national cause and became a symbol of African resistance against European colonialism.
The significant public roles Andreas came to play ranged from his duties within the committee to leading repatriation efforts for the Aksum Obelisk and other heritage artefacts. As President of AAU, he focused on democratising the university’s governance, the university’s contribution to national political life and to the economy of the local community, and initiated Pan-African programmes such as the Tana High-Level Forum on Security in Africa. Andreas also established new centres of excellence, including the Institute for Peace and Security Studies, the Centre for Human Rights and the Centre for Federal Studies. He was a proponent of the establishment of the Centre for Nile Studies well before the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam project and the subsequent diplomatic tiff with Egypt over the use of the Nile River.
In dealing with public affairs, Andreas was both firm and fair. He would protect his office, the institutions and his colleagues from unwarranted political and other attacks. He would act according to his convictions and reject outside interference, such as that from government authorities protesting strongly when the university appointed former government officials and opposition leaders to positions at the institution.
When the Ethiopian government postponed the scheduled 29 August 2020 legislative elections indefinitely, citing the COVID-19 pandemic as the reason, Andreas expressed his principled opposition to this move. Drawing from the scholarship of another preeminent thinker he valued, Amartya Sen, specifically Sen’s work on how a free press could act as a safeguard against famine, Andreas offered his trademark bold and fresh perspective to the public. In a live TV appearance, he underscored the vital need for a system of checks and balances and accountable government, particularly in the midst of calamities like the COVID-19 pandemic. Andreas stressed the importance of holding elections according to the constitution, even in difficult circumstances, to maintain the credibility of the government and uphold democratic accountability in dealing with the polycrisis Ethiopia was facing. When the war on Tigray broke out in November 2020, Andreas was deeply devastated and vehemently opposed to the conflict and the resulting famine. Drawing on his profound understanding of constitutional law and human rights, Andreas opposed the war, the siege, and the suffering inflicted upon civilians, calling for dialogue, reconciliation, and a peaceful resolution to the conflict.
Taking such a principled public position and speaking truth to power was not new or a sudden old-age revelation for him; it was a consistent marker of his lifelong commitment to justice and compassion. I learned from close friends that Andreas was among the few rare leaders of his generation who expressed immediate and unqualified opposition to the 23 November 1974 summary execution of Emperor Haile Selassie’s government officials – known as the “Massacre of the Sixty” – by the Derge, a military junta led by Mengistu Hailemariam. This stance, taken early in his career, demonstrated Andreas’s principled approach to justice and his opposition to extrajudicial killings, regardless of political circumstances. It showcased his courage in standing up for justice, due process, and the rule of law, even when it was politically suicidal for his left-leaning generation. This stance reflected not only Andreas’s unwavering commitment to constitutional democracy and his belief in the importance of maintaining constitutional constraints and processes, especially in times of crisis, but also his novel approach to such pressing political and social issues.
Advocating for the preservation of the memory of the countless victims of the former Alem Bekagne prison and other atrocities under the Derge, Andreas – who chaired the Board of the African Union Human Rights Memorial from 2012 to 2014 – championed the establishment of a museum on the site where imperial ministers were summarily executed. Despite his efforts, the construction of the new African Union Commission Headquarters led to the demolition of this historic site, reflecting the disregard for the need to memorialise victims of gross human rights violations across Africa, which would have been symbolised by the presence of such a museum within the grounds of the AUC.
Compassion and humanity
While President of AAU in 2008, Andreas suffered a stroke that left him needing serious medical attention. The outpouring of support from a cross-section of Ethiopian society was overwhelming and extended well beyond the immediate circle of friends and family members. Calls offering to help in arrangements to evacuate him came from government officials, private individuals and businesses, along with messages of care, love and prayer. During his illness, Andreas showed admirable courage and readiness to do as he was told by the doctors and survived the stroke for more than a decade. We met again after he returned home from treatment in South Africa and the US, happily reflecting on his recovery and, particularly, the extraordinary response to the news of his illness. I vividly recall Andreas weeping, more than a decade later, wondering how he could repay the people of Ethiopia and those individuals who rushed to his aid for their kindness.
The mentor
Andreas had a rare ability to see things that others missed, not dissimilar to Edward de Bono’s concept of solving problems using an indirect and creative approach through reasoning not immediately obvious. He breached most boundaries in the social sciences and encouraged me to do the same. He propounded positivism, empiricism, a certain brand of rationalism and an irreverence for institutionalised departmental boundaries of fields of study such as history, politics and law – all of which he crossed. He favoured a broader, more holistic approach to knowledge. In an age of specialisation and career-based education, Andreas inspired me (and many other students) to take a broad approach, to cross disciplinary boundaries, to study what we love and to love what we study, while remaining always open to new thoughts and new ideas.
As Andreas’s student, I had a wonderfully reflective and intellectually productive time. As a supervisor, his most important lessons were his manner of thinking and his writing style. It was “how” than “what” he thought that most impressed me. Implicit in everything Andreas taught me was that I should see myself as one who could and should think critically, articulate ideas, and write – not simply take notes. Andreas took me out of my intellectual comfort zone by bringing in a different stream of thought and always asking, “why?” This was not always pleasant, but it helped compel me to give harder thought to the clarity of my ideas and proposals. Andreas generously offered his time and knowledge, readily suggesting books and allowing others to borrow from his large personal library.
Andreas’s experiential intelligence showed in his capacity for innovative intellectual pursuits, including his prose and his understanding of the arts. His writing and speech alike were a joy: economical with words but always striking in presentation and prose. His imaginative observations, informed as they were by his understanding of history, politics, law and philosophy, brought with them insights both innovative and practical. His mastery of philosophy, his style of writing, and his teaching delivery were at once gentle and powerful. Andreas had a formidable mind but was devoid of the vanity, pride or snobbery that can sometimes go with this gift, which made him a wonderful friend, accessible to students or strangers. This made it easy for him to cultivate friendship with almost anyone, including his students. Andreas was a stellar guide and supervisor for me and others, as well as a forgiving friend even to those who made him their enemy.
The early bird president
I learned more about the Andreas who had been my teacher and advisor when he later became my boss as President of AAU. He was an early riser, often in his office before seven in the morning. He would start his day with classical music (Vivaldi, Beethoven, Mozart and others – a taste I have since developed) before reading The New York Review of Books then engaging in conversation about the day’s routine, including meeting with the students he supervised. He was one of those rare intellectuals who could, in his own words, bring together “the world of beauty and the world of action” in the daily round.
Later still, as my immediate boss (together with Samuel Assefa, a Vice President supervising the reform office where I served as director), we would lunch together, mostly in Samuel’s or Andreas’s house, continuing our conversations on topics on the university, academic science and politics.
Andreas’s respectful treatment of everyone meant that a stream of complaints and complainants visited him throughout the day, and his disposition to listen attentively without interruption was remarkable. He held to his position very firmly but would suspend judgment without rushing to express his thoughts and seldom reacted immediately. Even on those rare occasions when I disagreed with him, he would cede first place to listen to me, then explain his differing view much more lucidly and precisely than I could.
The masterful convener
A characteristic that had a profound impact on me was Andreas’s exceptional talent for bringing together people from all walks of life. He personified ideals rarely seen behind the wall of intolerance built by his generation and, of course, by ours too. People from all backgrounds would gather at his home in Sar Bait, Addis Ababa, which was a microcosm of fraternity for all his friends, near and distant, young and old, those in authority and those in opposition. His home would be filled with many people on March 2nd, which coincides with the commemoration of the Victory of Adwa.
In his house, those who admired him and those less fond of him would alike find a place to engage in conversation. Andreas would bring together all strands of politics: leaders of the ruling and opposition parties, artists of varied inclinations and talents, scientists from many fields and Ethiopians from all corners of the country. Andreas created a space for dialogue and understanding, showcasing his remarkable ability to befriend those who often held opposing political views. He transcended the divides of identity politics to advance justice and human dignity for everyone – nationally, regionally, and globally – but above all, to protect and defend the most disadvantaged in society. It is devastating to think that that convener and that venue are no more.
The ‘Andreas Rule’
During discussions of controversial, divisive issues that could lead to heated, personalised debates, Andreas had a unique approach that I came to call the “Andreas Rule”. The magic of his approach lay in listening without interruption. He would start by appreciating all opinions and contributions, focus on principles and core ideas, and present the least rejectable arguments. This approach made it challenging – though not impossible – to persuasively disagree with his viewpoints and showcased his capacity to judge individuals not by external social indicators such as ethnicity, age or gender, but on their merits. Andreas would begin conversations by inviting all opinions and contributions. He was the least judgmental of men, who could and would work with everyone open to dialogue.
Personal reflections
Despite the seriousness of his work, Andreas had a witty, often sarcastic sense of humour. Even in times of distress, Andreas could make us laugh. When I made the decision to leave the university for a post at the African Union Commission, Andreas playfully remarked, “So, you’re aiming to be called Excellency now,” alluding to that organisation’s rigid protocol of addressing officials in meetings even when seemingly unnecessary (or inappropriate). Titles, even the informal “Prof”, were not something Andreas favoured, and he saw the addition of a titular prefix as representing a lack of empathy and closeness. Early on in our acquaintance he told me that, unless displeased with him, I should simply call him “Andreas”. Following a medical procedure on his eyes, he jokingly told me, “I thought many of you were good-looking, but now that my vision is clearer, I’m not so sure.” After examining a recommendation penned by a common friend for an application, he remarked, “To sum it up, this recommendation is essentially saying, ‘I wish I were him’”.
The loss of Andreas Esheté leaves a void in the intellectual and public life of Ethiopia and beyond. He was a compassionate man who possessed deep empathy for others’ distress, along with an urgent desire to alleviate it. But above all, he lived for justice and human dignity. Andreas’s immortality lies in the countless lives he touched, the minds he shaped and the ideals he championed. His spirit will continue to inspire and guide us as we strive to build the more just and fraternal world he envisioned. As I conclude this tribute, two quotes come to mind. Maya Angelou said, “Your legacy is every life you have touched.” For Aristotle, “Being is spoken of in many ways, but… not [as] homonymous”.
Of the four people that have been the great influences on my life, my work and my thinking, one has been a truly great, truly inspirational teacher. Like the many – in Ethiopia and in the wider world – who knew him or were touched by his life, I mourn for Andreas Esheté.
