Mr. Abiy says he does not want to remain in the palace forever. He has promised competitive elections plus term limits for the prime minister.
“I’m not a king,” Mr. Abiy said. “My ultimate objective is to see democratic elections in Ethiopia. If that happened, I’ll feel I fulfilled my objective.”
Opposition political parties are now free to operate, but Mr. Abiy has not said when and how he will lift laws that restrict how civil society groups function.
“We’ll give them rights to operate in our country. Also we will give them responsibility because group thinking is there, emotion is there,” he said. “Our door is open, but we will watch our door.”
Leenco Lata, a political dissident who returned to Ethiopia recently after a quarter century in self-imposed exile in Oslo, credited the new prime minister for trying to change the system from inside — something he has never seen in the country before.
“There is a struggle within the government, and the pro-reform wing is having the upper hand,” said Mr. Lata, who heads a political organization called the Oromo Democratic Front.
“I believe in this government’s commitment to institute democratic order in this country. But I’m worried because the obstacles are huge,” he added. “The country’s deep seated autocratic culture needs to be reformed.”
Mr. Abiy faces entrenched resistance at home — in the security services and the political parties that have long held power. But he came to the United States to remove a longtime thorn in the side of Ethiopia’s leaders: its exiles.
“The chaos, the crisis, the conflict in the nation, somehow, it is related to the diaspora,” he said. “That negative energy operates in destroying our country.”
To win over dissidents abroad, he is appealing to their homesickness.
Around 23,000 Ethiopians abroad were effectively barred from coming home because of their political activities. Mr. Abiy lifted those restrictions.
In a sign of that new openness, he said that Ethiopians abroad — thousands of whom hadn’t set foot in the country in years for fear of arrest — would be able to come home visa free for the Ethiopian new year.
“The diaspora, most of them, they live here physically but their soul is there. Virtually day and night they are in Ethiopia,” he said. “They never expect to come to Ethiopia, to be invited to Ethiopia.”
He then headed to a rally to address them in a basketball arena at the University of Southern California, part of his three-city tour of the United States.
The bleachers were packed. Some wore his face on their T-shirts. One woman had inserted two flags into her hair — one Ethiopian, the other Eritrean. They ululated when Mr. Abiy approached the dais. “Abiy, Abiy,” they chanted in unison.
The prime minister beamed in a white blazer with lapels embroidered in black. He waved, touched his heart with his hand, preached.
“Instead of hating and holding grudges, we need to come together in peace and love,” he told the crowd.
“When are you going to help Ethiopia?” he asked and them urged them to contribute what he called their “macchiato money” — at least a dollar every day — to help Ethiopia prosper.
And then he listened.
One after another, dozens of Ethiopians came forward to pour out their grievances. Abraham Agonafer, a shuttle driver from Vancouver who had flown here to demand answers, took the mic, wearing the pictures of four young men on his T-shirt. They were students
who had disappeared many years ago, he said. He wanted the prime minister to find out what happened.
“That’s why I came all this way,” the man said later. “His reforms, they give me hope.”