President Barack Obama’s 2014 budget proposal promises significant food aid reform that will enable the United States to feed about 4 million more people without a significant increase of the current $1.8 billion spent on feeding the world's most hungry. Since the food aid program's inception in 1954, the U.S. has helped feed more than 1 billion people in more than 150 countries, and remains the largest provider of international food aid.

The intention of the reform is to make food aid more efficient, cost effective, and flexible. It aims to use local and regional markets to lower the cost of food and speed its delivery, and calls for the use of cash transfers and electronic food vouchers.

The proposed reforms would also end monetization—the sale of U.S. food abroad to be sold by local NGOs for cash. This practice has been criticized for hurting vulnerable communities by depriving local farmers of the incentives and opportunities to develop their own livelihoods. Several studies, including one by the Government Accountability Office, found monetization to be costly and inefficient—an average of 25 cents per taxpayer dollar spent on food aid is lost.

Barry Riley, a food aid expert and visiting fellow at the Center on Food Security and the Environment, discusses his perspective on the importance of these new reforms, their chances of passage, and the country's current role in international food aid.

Why is local procurement such an important addition to food aid reform?

An increase of funding for local and regional procurement is the most important programmatic element of the proposed reforms. It would help managers working in food security-related development programs to determine for each emergency what commodities are most appropriate and where they can be procured most quickly and inexpensively. Some studies have shown local and regional procurement of food and other cash-based programs can get food to people in critical need 11 to 15 weeks faster at a savings of 25-50 percent. Equally important, local procurement is less likely to disrupt local economic conditions, but rather promote self-sufficiency by increasing demand (often for preferred local staples) and incomes of local producers. The move to 45 percent local (and 55 percent tied) procurement is a BIG step, and one to face strong opposition from American commodity interests and U.S.-flag shippers. 

How difficult is it to ensure vouchers and electronic cash transfers are getting into the hands of people that really need the aid?

Vouchers (and similar urban coupon shops) have been used many times over the past decades as a food transfer mechanism (also sometimes used in food for work programs) enabling the recipient to trade the voucher(s) for foodstuffs when it is most convenient or when they are most needed. Electronic vouchers are new, and how well they work depends on local situations. In places like urban Latin America, Africa and India, it probably could be made to work quite well; the technology is evolving quickly that would enable this sort of transfer mechanism.  

Rural Ethiopia, Burkina Faso, Central African Republic, Malawi – probably not so well. I’m admittedly skeptical that electronic transfers of purchasing power to remote areas would be sufficient in most cases to motivate traders to move food to these hungry areas. Their risks are extremely high and, in my experience in Africa, traders will only deliver food to remote rural areas (inevitably over very bad roads) if they can command prices considerably higher than costs plus a high risk premium.

Why aren’t international food aid organizations more in favor of direct dollar support for local operating costs?

There is (and has long been) opposition among many of the NGOs to the President’s proposal to replace “monetization” with a promise of on-going direct dollar support for the local operating costs of NGO food security-related projects. They believe it will continue to be easier to get Congress to approve money to buy American food commodities to ship overseas than to get approval for dollars to ship overseas, particularly in light of tightening budgets. These NGOs have tended, over the years, to receive a sympathetic ear from Congress.

The proposal shifts oversight of the food aid program from the Agriculture Committees within the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) to the Foreign Affairs/Relations Committees of the State Department’s U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID). What is the likelihood of Congress approving this transfer?

The chance of that happening, in this of all Congresses, is about the same as winning the Power Ball Lottery. Crusty committee chair-people are extremely sensitive to reductions in their empires and the agriculture committees – especially in the Senate – are powerful committees. On top of that, there are so many elements in the overall 2014 federal budget creating heartburn on the Hill that food aid considerations are far, far, far down the line. The best the President is likely to get in the present divided Congress are hearings and a continuing resolution of some sort.

What did you wish to see in the food aid reform proposal that was not addressed in this budget?

Change, if it ever comes, will likely be incremental and halting. I’ll be happy to see any step, however small, in the right direction. The total end of tied procurement would be at the top of my wish list. Even more important, perhaps, iron-clad, multi-year commitments of funding to food security programs intended to overcome long-term institutional impediments to achieving enduring food security in low income food deficit situations…and sticking with such commitments for 15 years.

What role does food aid play in advancing American foreign policy goals?

Most importantly, by being the single largest source of food commodities to the World Food Program in confronting disaster and emergency situations. Food support to American NGOs has been under-evaluated over the past 40 years. I’ll be talking about this later in the book I am writing, but these small projects were all that kept agricultural development (and early food security efforts) going in many small countries during the “dark decades” when international finance institutions and bilateral donors were not financing agricultural development. There are valuable on-the-ground lessons in that NGO food-assisted experience still waiting to be assessed.

Let me add, given what we know about the onset of serious climate change in the decades to come, the need to supply large amounts of food to populations suffering severe food deprivation will probably grow in the future. Where will the food come from and who will pay for those future transfers?

While the U.S. remains the largest provider of food aid, what can the EU and Canada teach the U.S. about food aid policy?

Donors hate to think that other donors have something to teach them. But, of course, they always do. The Canadian and European experience with food aid is best summed up in the way their objective has come to be restated over the past 15 or so years: not “food aid” but “aid for food.” The purpose of assistance intended to improve food security is to improve either, or both, availability and access over the long term (leave nutrition aside for a moment).

European and Canadian assistance can be much more flexible in choosing the instruments – food, cash, technical assistance, training, institutional strengthening, public policy, public-private cooperation, etc. – required to achieve a realistic food security goal which I would describe as pretty good assurance that most people can get their hands on the food they need most of the time. Commodity food aid, in some form – or the promise of its ready availability when needed – will probably need to be part of the total array of inputs required for the several years needed in particular food insecure countries to achieve that “pretty good assurance.” Europe and Canada are closer to understanding this and have become appropriately flexible in concerting resources to get it done. That’s the lesson.

SHERKOLE, ETHIOPIA – The white jeep bumps along past red-clay villages dotted with thatched huts and waving children gathered in the shadows of the mango trees. The Stanford students are quiet as they observe the foreign landscape and grip their laminated design maps and exhaustive lists of questions. They’ve been preparing for this day for months.

The head of the UN refugee program in Ethiopia had just cautioned: changing the way we do things won’t be easy.

“First go see the realities on the ground,” said J.O. Moses Okello, the chief representative in Ethiopia for the Asylum Access, the global agency set up in 1951 to help those uprooted after World War II. “You do not have to reinvent the wheel. And yet, with all the new technology today, I suppose the sky is your limit. Come back to us with some good ideas.”

The students would soon learn that good ideas from the classroom don’t always translate to doable ideas on the ground.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here,” says Devorah West, a second-year master’s student in international policy studies, as she takes in the parched Ethiopian plains. Her team is focused on helping local communities share some of the benefits from the camps, while avoiding the pitfalls.

This long-awaited research trip emerged from a dialogue and collaboration between Stanford’s Center for International Security and Cooperation (CISAC) and the UNHCR. A UN official approached CISAC Co-Director Tino Cuéllar a year ago about exploring ideas to better protect and support more than 42 million refugees, internally displaced and stateless people worldwide.

These early discussions led to a multidisciplinary partnership involving CISAC, students from across the Stanford campus and at the Hassno-Platner Institute of Design. Professors, NGOs such as the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (IRC) and International Rescue Committee, physicians, architects and other professionals have all been eager to volunteer time and expertise.

Now, four students from Cuéllar’s Law School class, “Rethinking Refugee Communities,” have traversed the globe to test out their technology and design theories. Representing teams from the class co-taught by Leslie Witt of the Silicon Valley global design firm, IDEO, some 25 students spent the winter quarter consulting and brainstorming about ways to advance camp communications; food security and economic self-sufficiency; local community relations; and the complicated process of setting up camps for thousands of exhausted and heartsick refugees.

“It’s a long way from the classroom. I just don’t know what to expect,” West says, climbing down from the jeep with the black-and-yellow IRC logo. The NGO, founded in 1933 at the request of Albert Einstein to help those suffering under Hitler, has facilitated the Stanford visit.

The students were chosen by their classmates as the first to represent Stanford out in the field, for a project CISAC intends to build out for years to come. Parth Bhakta and Ben Rudolph are symbolic systems and computer science seniors, respectively, looking at camp communications and early camp registration. Jessica Miranda is another second-year master’s student in international policy studies who intends to take back to her team details about small-scale farming and ways they might help refugees become more self-sufficient.

First Camp

After two days of travel from San Francisco to Ethiopia and then two days of briefings in the capital, the students take an Ethiopian Airlines prop plane from Addis Ababa to the western town of Assosa. They arrive in Sherkole, a village 30 miles from the Sudanese border.

The students get their first dose of African celebration – and a hard dose of reality.

They have arrived on International Women’s Day, so the UN, IRC and numerous Ethiopian government agencies and international NGOs are celebrating in the camp’s main square. It’s 90-plus degrees and loud drums and horns compete with dancers and speeches about the need to recognize the accomplishment of women. It’s a joyous and hopeful scene.

But when the students gather in a nearby community center with two dozen refugees, they get an earful about the lack of communications, lost ration cards, displaced children and rivalries in the camp filled mostly with Sudanese fleeing fighting in the Blue Nile state in southeastern Sudan. Conflict in that region re-erupted in 2011 between the Sudanese army and rebels allied to the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement, the dominant force in newly independent South Sudan.

“I have food. I have a wife. I have everything I need – but I have no freedom,” says Faruk Baba, a 34-year-old Sudanese living in the camp for 13 years. He met and married his wife and had four children in the camp that opened in 1997 and today houses some 7,600 refugees.

Though having spent more than a third of his life in Sherkole, Baba tells Rudolph and Bhakta that he longs to go home. He’s waited for more than a year for his repatriation documents. Can the students help him secure those documents? Can they give him freedom?

Seated in a circle on small stools in the clay-walled center painted lemon yellow and beastly hot with its corrugated tin roof, Rudolph and Bhakta gently tell the refugees they are not here to help them with their immediate woes; they are college students conducting research.

They turn back to questions about how the refugees communicate back home and whether the registration process was smooth when they arrived. But the refugees want to vent.

An old man with glasses shakes his head and says he’s been waiting nine months for his ration card; a woman with deep half-moon tribal scars on her cheeks clucks at the students and ignores their questions: “As refugees, we have no rights. We just do what they tell us to do.”

A SlideRocket presentation of the Ethiopia Trip 

Rudolph and Bhakta plow ahead. Bhakta talks about his scheme to set up radio transmitters on mobile broadcast kiosks that would allow them to communicate with the UNHCR. Rudolph explains his software designed to promote two-way communication between the UNHCR and refugees using mobile phone technology.

But Ethiopia has a monopoly on the cellular network, so the government might not be open to the new technology. Further, the refugees note, many of them have no access to mobile phones.

A young Congolese man then voices what many refugees likely think:

“We’re always receiving guests here and giving them information, but you never give us any solutions,” says Steven Murama, who says he fled eastern Congo three years ago, walking through Rwanda and Kenya and then onto Ethiopia after his village was attacked by one of the rebel groups terrorizing Congo’s South Kivu province.

“We are not kids to be toyed with out here.”

The students, somewhat dazed by jetlag and heat, reply that they have come with good intentions and hope to work on long-term solutions that may one day help the next generation of refugees.

“It was really tough speaking with the refugees initially,” Bhakta says. “You begin to realize that there are no easy solutions, despite all the work we did in the classroom.”

Yet many one-on-one meetings with refugees and Ethiopians in surrounding communities would prove fruitful over the next two days. 

“You read about refugees and their living situation in textbooks and articles, but actually visiting a camp makes it come to life; it puts things in perspective,” Rudolph says. “If it was easy to apply technology to the refugee situation, then there’d be no challenge. What’s the fun in that?”

Next: Devorah West sits beneath a mango tree to talk to a local village head about how the refugees have impacted their lives.

Many Stanford computer science majors hope to land coveted jobs in Silicon Valley upon graduation. Parth Bhakta or Ben Rudolph aren't so sure. They first want to take their skills far afield of the storied technology hub. 

Bhakta and Rudolph joined two other Stanford students earlier this month to travel to Ethiopia, making their way to remote refugee camps along the Sudanese border. They are researching ways in which technology and design innovation can help improve conditions for refugees and their surrounding communities.

“As a computer science student, I feel that a lot of Silicon Valley is focused on solving trivial problems,” said Bhakta, a senior from Palm Desert, Calif., who graduates this year with an undergraduate degree in symbolic systems and a master’s in computer science. “I hope to apply my skills toward something that has a meaningful impact. I want this experience to help me better understand how to tackle big, tangible problems.”

The students worked with the UNHCR and International Rescue Committee in the Bambasi and Sherkole refugee camps in western Ethiopia to test out ideas they’ve been working on with the goal of improving camp communications; food security and economic self-sufficiency; host community relations; and the often difficult process of setting up camps to house arriving refugees.

The idea for the trip emerged from a dialogue and collaboration between Stanford’s Center for International Security and Cooperation (CISAC) and the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). An official from the UN agency approached CISAC Co-Director Tino Cuéllar last spring, and encouraged CISAC to explore ideas to better protect and support the care of more than 42 million refugees, internally displaced and stateless people worldwide.

These early discussions led to a multidisciplinary partnership involving CISAC, students from across the Stanford campus and at the Hassno-Platner Institute of Design – better known as the d.school – as well as professors, NGOs, physicians, officials with experience in humanitarian settings, architects and other professionals eager to volunteer their time and expertise.

Among those professionals is Jeffrey Geisinger, an architect with Ennead Architects in New York. The firm, which designed the new Stanford Law School wing and the recently inaugurated Bing Concert Hall, is doing pro bono work on the project through its advocacy lab.

Geisinger hopes to start designing modules that might be used in shared spaces. To do this, he said, he must see what construction materials are available, what deficiencies typically exist out in the field and which social networks and local skills might be tapped to help the UN build more innovative structures shared by both communities.

“From an architect’s perspective, we’re interested in some kind of design solution,” said Geisinger. “But before we can even begin to put pencil to paper, it’s important to really define the problem.”

For CISAC, the project represents a further effort to bridge the gap between scholarship and practice.

“This is an extraordinary manifestation of CISAC’s mission to help shape public policy,” said Liz Gardner, CISAC’s associate director for programs. “This project marries up scholarship, teaching and close interaction with policymakers – with the ultimate goal of improving the lives of refugees.”

The project also led to dozens of students from a variety of majors to enroll in the Law School class, “Rethinking Refugee Communities,” co-taught by Cuéllar and Leslie Witt of the global design consultancy, IDEO. The students have been brainstorming and investigating, then hammering out concepts and prototypes they hope might one day be implemented by the United Nations.

Now, they want to put those ideas to the test.

Rudolph, a senior from Chicago, is working with his team to build a software platform that would enable early camp registration and provide two-way communication between the UNHCR and refugees, using mobile technology. RescueSMS is software designed to better profile each refugee and alert them to upcoming events or emergencies in the camp, as well as give them a voice to express concerns or ask questions of the UN.

“I’m excited about applying my computer science knowledge to humanitarian efforts, where I think software is underused,” said Rudolph, who has had a string of internships at Silicon Valley startups. “I wanted a change of pace from the corporate world; I was tired of working for traditional software startup companies.”

So he’s taking an untraditional route. Rudolph’s interest in the project has led to an internship with the UNHCR’s innovation lab in Geneva after he graduates this summer.

One of Cuéllar’s goals is to build long-term relationships with organizations such as the UNHCR so that the work by Stanford students becomes embedded in the innovation process of public organizations. 

Devorah West’s team is looking at infrastructure in the space that is shared by refugees and the indigenous people from the surrounding community. When thousands of refugees stream into border communities in neighboring countries, resources become scarce and tensions run high. West is representing the team looking at ways to build schools, medical facilities and marketplaces that could be shared by both communities.

“My team will use this trip to get a better understanding of realities on the ground,” said West, a second-year master’s student in international policy studies from Santa Fe, N.M., who graduates this summer. “We hope to find ways to defuse tensions over scarce resources and allow both communities to satisfy social and physical needs.”

West said she was drawn to the project by the interdisciplinary nature of the teams.

“Having worked in the policy world, I was really interested in using design thinking to fuse together academic research and policy development in order to have a concrete impact on refugee communities,” she said.

Jessica Miranda is representing the team focused on food security and economic self-sufficiency. They are working on understanding how to encourage small-scale mobile farming. During her visits to the camps, she will investigate the challenges that affect small-scale gardening and learn more about the terrain, the nutritional status of vulnerable households and what the cultural views are on agriculture.  

“I know how it feels to leave your country behind,” said Miranda, a second-year master’s student in international policy studies from Toluca, Mexico. “And I want to help. But it’s difficult to think about refugee camps from the comfort of my couch. It’s time to go and see how these ideas might work on the ground."

Beth Duff-Brown, CISAC’s communications manager, traveled with the students and will be reporting from the field.

The demise of Moammar Gadhafi’s regime gave Abdulhafid Sidoun a second chance at life.

Six days before Sidoun was to be executed for promoting democracy in Libya, rebels toppled the government and emptied the country’s jails of its political prisoners. After more than five months of beatings and abuse on death row, Sidoun was free. Weeks later, Gadhafi was dead, gunned down by the rebels.

Sidoun’s fight to bring democracy and accountability to Libya is far from over. Qadaffi’s 40-year stranglehold starved Libya of political debate and evolution, and Sidoun knew he needed a crash-course in building an open, stable society. He received one this summer at Stanford, joining 23 other pro-democracy advocates from 22 countries in the Draper Hills Summer Fellows Program on Democracy and Development.

“Gadhafi is gone, but we still have a corrupt system we need to clean up,” says Sidoun, a Tripoli-based lawyer who waged a social media campaign to unite Gadhafi opponents. “My country needs me now. I have to work with my friends and colleagues and other lawyers and tell them what I’ve learned.”

Abdulhafid Sidoun was sentenced to death for trying to topple Moammar Gadhafi’s regime. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

He has chronic back pain from the blows dealt by prison guards. And he winces when he talks about being torn from his family and isolated in a dark cell where he had no idea how – or even whether – the revolt against Gadhafi was unfolding until rebels broke him free.

For three weeks in late July and early August, Sidoun and the other fellows participated in faculty-led sessions on democracy, economic development, global health and hunger, human rights and the new technologies making it easier to organize and inspire reform. They took field trips to San Francisco and Monterey and met with officials at Google, Facebook and the Omidyar Network, a philanthropic investment firm that is contributing to the fellowship program.

And they spent time getting to know each other. Entrepreneurs, lawyers, journalists, politicians and civil society leaders sharing stories of overwhelming repression and the small successes they’ve had in trying to reform governments in places like Chile, China, Serbia and Zimbabwe.

“Everyone here has different stories and cultures, but we all talk about the same corruption,” Sidoun says. “We are learning that our problems are not very different.”

Fighting ignorance, encouraging debate

Now in its eighth year, the Draper Hills program – run by the Center on Democracy, Development and the Rule of Law at Stanford’s Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies – has created and grown a worldwide network of up-and-coming leaders.

About 200 fellows from more than 60 countries have passed through the program and are now trying to craft policy and bring about political and economic reform.

“Many governments in Latin America are suffering from very strong political leaders who were elected presidents but think they are little kings or queens who own the country,” says Laura Alonso, a national representative in the Argentine Congress selected as one of this year’s fellows.

“The main problem is that the people who become so powerful distort the rule of law,” she says. “There is a rule of law for their friends and a different rule of law for their enemies. So this is what I want to go home and address – how can we have a rule of law that applies to everyone? My time at Stanford is giving me the perspective I need to go back to the basics of democracy.”

The fellowship program also addresses the overlap of business and government, and has increased its emphasis on the role entrepreneurs play in building democracy.

"We have brought a few entrepreneurs into the group of fellows," says Kathryn Stoner, an expert on Russia who lectured to the fellows about democratic transitions. "It is good for them to know how to get around corrupt practices in government. We also know that a strong middle class is the backbone of democracy. Once people have property, they tend to want to protect it as well as to demand representation for any taxes they pay. Encouraging entrepreneurship then is a good way to pursue both economic and political development worldwide."

While they’re all at Stanford to learn, the fellows are eager to share their newfound knowledge.

Kamal Siddiqi uses his position as a newspaper editor to strengthen democracy in Pakistan. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

Bassim Assuqair was raised in Yemen by parents who forbade him from working as a teenager so he could devote all his energy to his studies. After earning a degree in English education from Sana’a University, he has worked for various development organizations. But he’s most interested in organizing Yemen’s youth and teaching them about the benefits of living in a country with free elections and the rule of law.

“There is so much ignorance, so much illiteracy in my country,” he says. “The people aren’t bad. They’re simple. They need awareness. I want them to know peace. It’s my task – I am ordering myself – to explain to others what I’m learning here.”

Kamal Siddiqi is another self-styled evangelist of democracy. As editor of The Express Tribune, an English-language daily in Pakistan, Siddiqi uses the newspaper as a check on government power while making the case that “a very bad elected prime minister is still better than a very good dictator.”

As a Draper Hills fellow, Siddiqi picked up technological tips and made connections with Stanford faculty that will help him better monitor crime, corruption and his country’s upcoming elections.

“I want to draw on the strength of the faculty and fellows of CDDRL to write for my newspaper,” he says. “They will play a part in my attempt to introduce some more ideas and issues in the general debate on elections and democracy.”

A chance to reflect

When FSI Director Coit D. Blacker and a core group of FSI’s senior fellows – including CDDRL Director Larry Diamond, Stoner-Weiss, former Stanford President Gerhard Casper and Michael A. McFaul, now Washington’s ambassador to Moscow – created the fellowship program, they wanted to give practitioners a chance to reflect and learn about democratic theory.

"We felt that practitioners from developing countries or countries in political and economic transition often feel isolated in the work that they do and they burn out," says Stoner-Weiss. "There were no such programs for international practitioners when we began eight years ago. We wanted to provide them with a sense of international community and the knowledge that they are not toiling away on their own." 

And the lessons the fellows learn from Stanford faculty can be invaluable. When it comes to building a constitution – something several of the fellows grapple with – Francis Fukuyama says there’s only a certain amount of time for a newly formed government to “get it right.”

FSI's Gerhard Casper waves a copy of the Magna Carta while speaking to the fellows about the rule of law. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

“If you don’t, your window of opportunity slams shut,” says Fukuyama, a FSI senior fellow who lectured to the group about economic development and governance.

“But you don’t want to invite more problems by not thinking through exactly what kind of government you want," he says. "You need to have a theoretical and academic perspective.”

And the learning goes both ways.

“I’m getting the problems and issues of 22 countries downloaded onto me in a very short period of time,” says Erik Jensen, a law professor and CDDRL faculty member who also helped start the fellowship program.

“The fellows bring important insights and opinions that don’t land on the front page of The New York Times, but are integral to understanding what’s going on in the developing world,” he says. “That’s pretty great to have in one room.”

Courage, risk and magic

After building momentum and attracting a growing number of faculty who wanted to work with the fellows, the program that began in 2005 quickly caught the interest of venture capitalist Bill Draper and philanthropist Ingrid Hills. Their $1.5 million gift gave the program its name in 2007.

Draper’s interest in the program is deeply tied to his background running the United Nations Development Programme between 1986 and 1994.

“There are wonderfully courageous leaders in this world who are willing to take risks,” Draper says. “It’s magical what can happen, and I’ve seen how one person really can make an enormous difference. A lot of people selected for this fellowship program have that opportunity.”

Hills anticipates the fellows will create a network that extends beyond the three weeks they spend together at Stanford. And former fellows plan to connect in Africa later this year to explore how to combat regional corruption and increase government accountability.

“My hope is that the program will give the fellows the knowledge and tools to build an infrastructure in their respective countries based on democratic principles,” Hills said.

Diamond, whose opening day lecture on defining democracy sets the stage for the learning that unfolds over the coming weeks, says the program ultimately invests in people with the potential to expand democracy.

“It gives them skills, ideas and comparative experiences to draw on,” he says. “Some of these people will continue to work in an important and incremental way to advance and defend human rights and the rule of law. Some will go on to have very prominent roles in government and civil society.”

Life sentence

Some of them, like Ethiopia’s Birtukan Midekssa, are already renowned political leaders whose stories underscore the most extreme hardships of building democracy.

Pardoned from the lifelong prison sentence she received for opposing Ethiopia's authoritarian government, Birtukan Midekssa is still fighting for democratic reform. Photo credit: Rod Searcey

By the second time Midekssa was in prison, her daughter was old enough to ask if her mother was going to come home.

“I’ll be back,” Midekssa told the 3-year-old. But the promise was tenuous. She was serving a life sentence, convicted of trying to overthrow Ethiopia’s constitutional order. Her actual crime was promoting honest democracy in a country run by a government intolerant of dissent and dismissive of civil liberties.

She was first sentenced to life in prison in 2005. Her daughter was 8 months old and Midekssa – then a federal judge – was just elected deputy chair of the Coalition for Unity and Democracy. Her party had won a majority in parliament, but Prime Minister Meles Zenawi cracked down on the rising opposition. Midekssa and about 30,000 others were thrown in jail. Security forces killed nearly 200 demonstrators during rallies that began peacefully.

Midekssa was pardoned 18 months later, but re-arrested in 2008 after being accused of violating the terms of that agreement. She had also recently been elected chair of a new opposition group.

“They had me in solitary confinement and cut off from the entire world,” she says. “Sometimes I felt like the whole world was forgetting about me.”

It had not. When she was pardoned again in 2010, throngs of overjoyed supporters greeted her with shouts, songs and dance when she returned to her neighborhood in Addis Ababa.

But Midekssa was drained. Her party was weakened and her political prospects were uncertain. With few options in Ethiopia, she and her daughter moved to the United States in 2011.

“There was little I could do,” she says. “I wanted to learn more, study more and figure out how to establish democracy and stability.”

Landing a Draper Hills fellowship meant the chance to tap into a deep academic perspective and think about how she might take another pass at building democracy when Ethiopia’s authoritarian system shows some sign of opening up.

“She’s not a revolutionary in favor of violence or radical change,” Diamond says. “If the regime decides it wants to negotiate a process of political reform and put the political system on the foundations of greater legitimacy, she’s one of the first people they’d need to reach out to.”

But until they do, Midekssa will wait patiently. Studying. Retooling. Sharing her experiences. And repeating the promise she made to her daughter years ago:

“I’ll be back.”