Questions linger among the corpses of an Ethiopian massacre
Scores of freshly-dug graves
fill the church compound in Mai-Kadra. Shovels abandoned by weary hands are
strewn on the dirt among empty cans of lemon air freshener that fail to mask
the stench of death.
Elsewhere in this town in
western Tigray, dozens of corpses still awaiting a grave lie abandoned in a
roadside ditch, their exposed flesh rotting in the sun.
No-one denies that something
terrible unfolded here: a massacre of hundreds of civilians, who were shot,
slashed or stabbed with knives and machetes.
It is the worst-known
episode of violence against civilians in the deepening bloodshed in northern
Ethiopia.
But the dead are now pawns
in a blame game. Participants in the three-week-old conflict are seeking to
absolve themselves of an atrocity that bears the hallmarks of a war crime.
The massacre on November 9
was revealed by rights group Amnesty International, using photo and video
analysis and interviews with witnesses who said retreating forces loyal to the
Tigray People's Liberation Front (TPLF) were responsible for killing ethnic Amhara
residents of the town.
Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed's
government has seized upon this narrative, the atrocity providing further
arguments for pressing his offensive against the dissident leadership of the
northern Tigray region.
On Tuesday, the Ethiopian
Human Rights Commission (EHRC), a government-affiliated body, issued a report
blaming a Tigrayan youth group as well as local police and militia for the
massacre of at least 600 people it said were "pre-identified" by
ethnicity.
But Tigrayan refugees who
fled Mai-Kadra for Sudan instead say pro-government forces were responsible for
the killings during a brutal assault on the town of 40,000 people.
Last week AFP gained rare
access to territory controlled by the federal government in the northern
conflict zone and visited Mai-Kadra.
Amhara residents of the town
said their Tigrayan neighbours had turned on them as the fighting drew close.
"Militiamen and police
attacked us with guns, and civilians attacked us with machetes," said
Misganaw Gebeyo, a 23-year-old Amhara farmhand now lying in a hospital bed, a
ragged scar extending below the medical gauze encasing his head. "The
whole population is involved."
He recalled hiding at home,
watching in terror as assailants decapitated his friend with a machete. He too
was hacked and left for dead.
"They wanted to
exterminate the Amharas," Misganaw said.
The town's newly-appointed
administrator, a government loyalist called Fentahun Bihohegn, described the
massacre as an act of attempted "genocide" against his fellow
Amharas.
"A brutal ethnic
cleansing has been committed against the Amhara people," Fentahun said,
describing the entire TPLF, whether leaders or members, as
"criminals".
"For me, I have
witnessed the real hell here in Mai-Kadra," he said.
A different story of the
massacre can be found a short distance to the west, in the mushrooming refugee
camps across the border in Sudan.
"Ethiopian soldiers and
Amhara militiamen entered the town and fired into the air and at
residents," Marsem Gadi, a 29-year-old farmer who fled with thousands of
other Tigrayans to the Um Raquba refugee camp, told AFP.
"We ran out of town to
find safety. I saw men in civilian clothes attacking villagers with knives and
axes," he said. "Corpses were lying in the streets."
When Marsem made it home
later his house had been looted and his wife and three-year-old son were gone.
"I don't know if they're still alive," he said. After that, he fled
to Sudan.
Other refugees shared
similar tales of attacks by pro-government forces, not TPLF.
Elifa Sagadi said she too
ran for the safety of nearby fields when the gunfire started.
"On the road I saw at
least 40 bodies. Some had bullets in their heads, others had been
stabbed," she said of her return. "When I went home, my house was on
fire and my husband and two sons had disappeared."
In a statement, the
Ethiopian government seemed to dismiss all such testimony as the work of
"TPLF operatives (who) have infiltrated refugees fleeing into Sudan to
carry out missions of disinformation."
For his part, TPLF leader
Debretsion Gebremichael rejected suggestions that his forces were responsible
for the massacre as "baseless".
"It cannot be related
to us. We have our values, we have our norms. We know how to handle
people," he said.
Amnesty researcher Fisseha
Tekle told AFP the stories heard in Mai-Kadra and Um Raquba could both be true:
a tit-for-tat ethnic slaughter revealing the dangers of a conflict that could
spiral out of control.
"We don't know the full
extent of the situation," he said, adding the killings "may amount to
war crimes".
The UN and human rights
groups have called for an impartial investigation, but a communications
blackout, restrictions on movement and continued fighting in Tigray make that
unlikely in the short term.
Amharas and Tigrayans were
uneasy neighbours before the current fighting, with tension over land sparking
violent clashes.
That Mai-Kadra is now being
run -- at least temporarily -- by Amharas provides relief to Amharas, even as
it deepens Tigrayan fears of a takeover.
"Now I feel very
free," said Adugna Abiru, an Amhara farmer who has worked in Mai-Kadra for
two decades.
"Before, if you spoke
on the phone in Amharic and not Tigrinya (the Tigrayan language), people would
look at you. You didn't feel safe," he said.
Fentahun, the new
administrator, who arrived after the federal government took control on
November 10 and drives around in a pick-up truck with three armed guards, said
he and his fellow Amharas did not want revenge against Tigrayans. He insisted
there were still Tigrayan residents in Mai-Kadra, but was unable to identify
any.
Nevertheless, he urged
refugees to return home from Sudan -- something the federal government is also
pushing even as the conflict escalates in the mountainous east where a siege of
the regional capital is threatened.
"Our vision is to
create a safe place for every Ethiopian," he said. "We want to make
this a peaceful place where everyone can exist together."