Too much blood in his hand and too much stolen wealth in his bank account,Meles Zinawi will be captured and be brough to national and internation criminal courts;for now,he is a fugitive.

Meles Zinawi is tenuous dust and flakes of snow;he will be blown away by volcanic and steamy voice of Ethiopians.He can never be as lucky as Ben Ali and Husen Mubarak were.No chance to escape from the pounding feast of Ehtiopians.

Victory for Libyans!!! Victory for Ethiopians!! Ethiopians will not stop the project without finishing it.Amen.

I think you have raised important question that demands timely answer. I don’t pretend to have the right answer to your point, but I suggest the following advice. There is no doubt, the question of uprising against the Merlese regime is becoming our primary consern.Undoubtedly, the next important challenge to this task is to properly conduct and execute this very mission.Unfortunately,there is no reassuring answer to guarantee ahead of time regarding this matter. This is largely due to the nature of uprising itself; each person is different, and is expected to respond or react to different situations differently. With this in mind, I believe, much what we can expect from the uprising is to be learned from the event itself and not to be determined in advance. However, prior to the event, we must insist that activists effectively communicate the object of the uprising to the people.As much as possible we must aim for an orderly protest. We need to effectively communicate the object of the uprising ,well ahead of time,to the different crosses section of our people.
That the object must be made clear-the removal of the regime, and pave the way for free national election. Remind the general public ,in the past, regardless of their political affiliation, or locality, have lived together and stood in defense of their country from foreign enemy. Emphasize the importance of seeing matters from nation state point of view rather than from ethnic state point. Build confidence on the will and ability of the people, to establish a democratic representative government. Convince the citizens such a representative government ,by far,will be in a apposition to safe guard the rights of its citizens, and protect the interest of the nation.
Remind the people governments come and leave the political scene, but the common bond that exists between our people is perennial. And As a result the participants of this historical mission need to show utmost consideration and love to one another to our citizens. In the event of the uprising if the government devise a plan to sabotage the unity of the people by resorting to ethnic politics, participants must be willing to show utmost restrainment against racial and ethnic hatred to our people.

Crushed, but true to law of ‘gaman’

From: The Australian | March 16, 2011 12:00AM

THE elderly and exhausted Japanese survivor was carried by piggyback into the medical centre and gently placed in a chair. As her rescuer left the room, she struggled to her feet and bowed. Alongside the chaos and destruction wrought by the terrible earthquake and tsunami have been scenes of heart-breaking orderliness and self-control. Japan is prostrate and fearful, but there are no reports of widespread looting, panic or hoarding. There is, as yet, very little anger directed at the government. Western news crews search the wreckage for images of fear and anguish, for outrage and despair, but the Japanese survivors avert their faces and cover their eyes if they weep. This extraordinary stoicism can be summed up by the Japanese word gaman, a concept that defies easy translation but broadly means calm forbearance, perseverance and poise in the face of events beyond one’s control. Start of sidebar. Skip to end of sidebar. .End of sidebar. Return to start of sidebar. Gaman reflects a distinctively Japanese mentality, the direct consequence of geography and history in a country where the cycle of destruction and renewal is embedded in the national psyche. The Japanese are not earthquake-proof but, like their buildings and bridges, resilience has become inbuilt in a nation adapted to sway and bend under shocks that would shatter other societies. Japan has known devastation before, and the horror of nuclear fallout, but its recovery after 1945, and the ensuing economic miracle, owed much to this uncomplaining tenacity, a collective pride in endurance, survival and reconstruction. When Japanese Prime Minister Naoto Kan described last Friday’s earthquake as “our worst crisis since the war”, he was deliberately invoking gaman. “In the past we have overcome all kinds of hardships,” he said. “Each of you should accept the responsibility to overcome this crisis and try to create a new Japan.” Gaman is part of the glue that holds Japanese society together, a way of thought instilled from an early age. It implies self-restraint, suffering in silence, denying oneself gratification and self-expression to fit in with the greater good. Originally a Buddhist term, it has come to signify self-denial, solidarity and a certain patient fatalism. This hardiness and social cohesion enabled Japan to emerge from the devastation of world war and thrive. But the rigid order and self-abnegation that it implies are also what keeps the beleaguered “salaryman” at his desk, toiling away with grim determination. That rigid conformity, obedience and sense of national purpose helped to propel Japan recklessly into World War II. Some in the West find the Japanese unfeeling in their reaction to disaster, and assume that “normal” human emotions are being suppressed. There is some evidence to support that view. The Kobe earthquake in 1995 that killed 6400 people and wiped out about 2.5 per cent of Japanese GDP was greeted with determination to rebuild the city. Only later did the psychological aftershocks hit, with higher rates of suicide and mental illness. But to see this response merely as evidence of a bottled-up culture is to misunderstand how Japanese society is founded on a shared pride in recovery, and how risk and response to adversity are bound up with being Japanese. Japan lives on a psychological as well as a seismic fault line. Its founding gods were foul-tempered and ferocious. Successive earthquakes, tsunamis, typhoons and volcanic eruptions have left this land with an acute sense of vulnerability, but a corresponding mental sturdiness. Every Japanese child is brought up to expect upheaval. Disaster Preparedness Day falls on September 1, the anniversary of the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 that killed 140,000. The importance of persevering and rebuilding in an uncertain natural world is reflected in traditional architecture, art and popular culture. The cult television show Endurance (Za Gaman in Japanese), in which contestants try to win by withstanding unpleasant experiences, is a target of mockery in the West, but it is more than entertainment in Japan, where physical and mental endurance are so highly prized. In the West, we look for reasons for natural disasters: we blame global warming, government failure or God. The Japanese relationship to nature is different: humanity is neither battling nature nor at its mercy, but part of it. Japan is braced for nature’s violence like no other country. Every bullet train has an automatic shutdown switch that activates when an earthquake strikes. But as events at Japan’s nuclear power plants show, safety technology has its limits. Disaster cannot always be prevented; it can only be coped with. The Japanese are coping in ways that some find hard to relate to: with deep sadness, but without breast-beating, complaint or recrimination. It is hard to imagine any other people who, when the Earth buckles and their world collapses, form an orderly queue. The contrast is illustrated by the way the tragedy has been covered. Western reporters stand before a backdrop of utter desolation; Japanese reporters tend to find a wider view, with a standing building. They do not thrust microphones towards the homeless and bereaved, demanding to know how they “feel”. At a moment of acute national pain, the Japanese audience does not want to intrude. We like to think understated resilience in a crisis is a peculiarly British trait, but today the stiff upper lip is Japanese. THE TIMES