Violence and Non-Violence in Africa

Pal Ahluwalia, Louise Bethleham, Ruth Ginio, Pal Ahluwalia, Louise Bethleham, Ruth Ginio

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2007
• ISBN:
  9781134136322
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politique et relations internationales
• Subtopic: Politique

This unique volume seeks both to historicize and to deconstruct the pervasive, almost ritualistic, association of Africa with forms of terrorism as well as extreme violence, the latter bordering on and including genocide.

Africa is tendentiously associated with violence in the popular and academic imagination alike. Written by leading authorities in postcolonial studies and African history, as well as highly promising emergent scholars, this book highlights political, social and cultural processes in Africa which incite violence or which facilitate its negotiation or negation through non-violent social practice. The chapters cover diverse historical periods ranging from fourteenth century Ethiopia and early twentieth century Cameroon, to contemporary analyses set in Kenya, Tanzania, Nigeria, Cameroon, the Ivory Coast and South Africa. It makes a crucial contribution to a revitalized understanding of the social and historical coordinates of violence - or its absence - in African settings.

Violence and Non-Violence in Africa will be of interest to students and scholars of African history and anthropology, colonialism and post-colonialism, political science and Africanist cultural studies.

1 The glorious violence of Amdä Seyon of Ethiopia¹

Steven Kaplan

Hero Amda Seyon
To and from the frontier
Like water in canal
To and from the frontier. . . .
. . .
Who is left for you at the frontier?
Whose face have you not disfigured?
Whose wife and child have you not captured?
Hero Amda Seyon,
To and from the frontier.²

Ever since his soldiers sang his praises almost seven centuries ago, King Amdä Seyon (r. 1314–44) of Ethiopia has been one of the central figures of Ethiopian history. In the context of this volume, it is particularly noteworthy that Amdä Seyon is remembered, not primarily as a great patron of literature³ or a gifted administrator, but for his use of violence. Two episodes are particularly noteworthy in this respect: the first, his wars against his Muslim neighbors (Perruchon 1889; Huntingford 1965; Ducati 1939; Kropp 1994; Marrassini 1993; Dillmann 1884; Tedeschi 1978–9; Cerulli 1968: 5–70; Taddesse 1972: 132–45); the second, and perhaps the more surprising, his persecution of “rebel” monks who criticized his marital practices and his intervention in church affairs.⁴

In this chapter, we shall attempt to investigate both these episodes. Our primary emphasis, however, shall not be on attempting either to reconstruct these events or the history of their transmission in the literature. Rather, we shall attempt to understand the manner in which the sources represent these events and the reasons why the king’s use of violence is remembered so vividly and in most cases so positively. We begin, however, with a few words regarding the historical setting in which these events took place.

Historical background

The earliest roots of Ethiopian civilization can be traced to the centuries prior and immediately subsequent to the beginning of the Common Era. Already in this formative period the monarchy, a local Church and documents written in a Semitic language (all elements found until the last decades of the twentieth century) were in place (Munro-Hay 1991; Phillipson 1998; Kobischanov 1979). The rulers of kingdom of Aksum who dominated the northern regions of modern Ethiopia and Eritrea from the first to the seventh century were succeeded, following a lengthy period of weak central rule, by the Zagwe dynasty, which reigned from 1137 to 1270 (Sergew 1972; Tedeschi 1990). They were followed in turn by rulers who depicted themselves as heirs not only to the Aksumite heritage, but through Aksum to King Solomon of Israel and the remarkable figure of the Queen of Sheba. This so-called “restoration” of the so-called “Solomonic” dynasty ushered in one of the golden periods in Ethiopia history. The borders of the kingdom expanded, the Church grew in strength and numbers, and original works in Ge’ez (Ethiopic) were composed in unprecedented numbers (Taddesse 1972; Kaplan 1984; Derat 2003a).

Although Yekunno Amlak (1270–85) is remembered as the founder of this old–new dynasty, his grandson Amdä Seyon is remembered as “the founder of [its] might and power” or even “the founder of the state” (Levine 1974: 73; Trimingham 1968: 70; Ullendorff 1960: 64). With the ascension of Amdä Seyon, Ethiopia entered a period of remarkable political stability. During the period of almost a century, from 1314 to 1412, only four emperors ruled in Ethiopia.

Amdä Seyon (r. 1314–44, regal name Gäbrä Mäsqäl) is considered to be one of the greatest Ethiopian emperors. During his reign he confronted several issues which had strategic consequences for the entire region of Ethiopia. In 1316/17, shortly after he assumed the throne, Amdä Seyon undertook large-scale successful military campaigns to Gojjam, Damot and Hadiyya⁵ (these last two regions strongly influenced by Islam) and levied an occasional tribute on them (Taddesse 1970: 95). He then turned his attention to the rulers of several northern regions, who had meanwhile obtained considerable independence.⁶

Yekunno Amlak and his descendants received only grudging recognition from the rulers of Tegre province. Resistance was especially strong in the region of Entärta, where the governors held almost independent power. Ya’ebikä Egzi, who governed this region during the early years of Amdä Seyon’s reign, did not even mention the king when he granted land to a local church in 1319 (Conti Rossini 1901: 200–1). About this time, he organized a revolt against Amdä Seyon, the results of which have been recorded for posterity: “King Amdä Seyon decreed and deposed them and destroyed the rebels. Moreover, to eliminate the pride of their hearts and to remove their honors, [he] appointed over their land men who were not born from Adam and Eve who were called Halästiyotat.”⁷

Amdä Seyon’s campaign in Entärta was a crucial step in the consolidation of his dynasty’s rule. Not only did it remove a major military threat and place the heartlands of the Aksumite kingdom under the firm control of the descendents of Yekunno Amlak, but it also enabled them to assert clearly and unequivocally their claim to be the heirs of that ancient kingdom. Heretofore, the nobles of Tegre had harbored serious doubts as to the legitimacy of the Amharan dynasty. Indeed, it was at the instigation of the aforementioned Ya’ebikä Egzi’ that the Kebrä Nagast (The Glory of Kings) resurfaced in the early fourteenth century.⁸ This epic, which claims that the kings of Aksum descended from King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, was well suited to serve the quest for recognition of a Tegrean prince. However, there can be little question that whatever the intentions of Ya’ebika Egzi with regard to the Kebrä Nägäst, with his defeat “Solomonic” descent became the distinctive heritage of the heirs of Amdä Seyon. As we shall see below, these traditions are significant insofar as they also legitimate some of Amdä Seyon’s later military campaigns.

While Amdä Seyon was consolidating his power in northern and southwest Ethiopia, in the south a group of Muslim principalities backed by nomadic tribes and basing their power on the control over long-distance trade from the Red Sea coast to the Ethiopian highlands, was growing (Braukämper 1977). A central position was held by powerful Ifat in the southwest Shäwa, ruled by Walashma sultans, which absorbed the Shäwan sultanate of Mahzumi dynasty at the end of the thirteenth century. For their part, Christian kings gradually subdued border Muslim areas, which had to pay tributes but were always ready to rebel (Taddesse 1972: 130f). This gradual expansion from both the Christian and Muslim sides inevitably led to a large-scale military conflict. Amdä Seyon’s wars of the year 1332 against Ifat and other Muslim principalities are known from the famous account of this campaign.

Despite the publication of numerous editions of the Wars, there is still no scholarly consensus as to the precise circumstances under which this text was composed and produced. While there appears to be a general agreement that many elements date from the time of the events it recounts, there is no such consensus regarding the period of the redaction, which has come to us. Paulo Marrassini’s recent suggestion (echoing August Dillmann) that the text we possess came to prominence during the sixteenth century as part of the Christian kingdom’s struggle against the Muslim conquest of Ethiopia led by Ahmad b. Ibrahim al-Gazi (better known as Gran) is intriguing.⁹ According to this thesis, the final redaction of the Wars was intended to rally the Christian troops of the sixteenth century in their own struggle against their Muslim enemies by recalling the successes of one of Ethiopia’s greatest warrior kings against his Muslim foes.

Whatever the precise circumstances which produced the Wars, the text offers valuable insights into Christian Ethiopian attitudes towards war and the violence it carried with it. It is to some of the themes found in this text that we now turn our attention.

Violence and masculinity

It is important to remember that Amdä Seyon was not just an armchair warrior, but a field commander who stood on the battlefield and personally engaged the enemy. Indeed, such personal involvement was common throughout Ethiopian history and several rulers lost their lives in combat. Thus his bravery and mili- tary feats were not mere hyperbole, but reflections of his actual achievements in battle. Although there were certainly cases in which he sent generals to quell rebellions or pacify enemies in distant provinces (Huntingford 1965: 62–3; Kropp 1994: 15tr.=11tx), Amdä Seyon was very much a hands-on military leader. For this reason he, and many of his successors and predecessors, had no permanent capital, but rather a roving camp which could be mobilized for combat at a moment’s notice (Horvath 1969).

In this context, it is important to remember that martial values, what some have called a “warrior ethos” or “warrior tradition,” played a dominant role in Ethiopian civilization. “This was not just a matter of according high prestige to military men; it involved the diffusion of martial attitudes, virtues, and ambitions throughout the population.”¹⁰ This was particularly expressed in notions of masculinity, which stressed ascetic virtues such as the ability to endure suffering in silence and to perform great feats of endurance.

The identities forged on the battlefield were not limited to titles which were awarded in the wake of victory. One of the innovations with which Amdä Seyon is credited is the organization of the royal army into pan-territorial units whose primary loyalty was not to any regional ruler, but to the king himself (Taddesse 1972: 89–94).

One of these units is said to have been particularly “beloved” of the king, while another is said to have pledged their allegiance to the king, who “nourished us from childhood and brought us up to die with him” (Huntingford 1965: 94; Kropp 1994: 55tr.=51tx).

Participation in battle was, moreover, a crucial test of manhood – in some cases quite literally. According to the Wars, a number of the king’s soldiers were captured and castrated by their enemies. The king, who grieved for them, sent his troops to raid these brutal enemies. This they did with much success, bringing before him not only the weapons and clothes of their foes, but also the genitals and ears of their dismembered colleagues (Huntingford 1965: 104–6; Kropp 1994: 66–9tr.=63–5tx.). While in this instance it was the Ethiopians’ enemies who mutilated their captives and the Ethiopians who restored their manhood, there is ample documentation in later periods of Ethiopian Christian soldiers taking such trophies (Pankhurst 1994: 84). Indeed, castrations performed by Christian fighters are documented as late as 1894, and according to some accounts continue in some southern regions to this day. While there is no evidence that in Amdä Seyon’s time “the act of killing was . . . regarded as a prerequisite for the status of being married and the ability to procreate” (Braukämpfer 2003: 695), such associations may have already existed.

Defeated soldiers were not the only ones who faced emasculation. Although it dates from a century after Amdä Seyon’s wars, the words of one of his successors, Zär’a Ya’eqob (1434–68), explicitly call to mind earlier treatments of deserters. The theme of emasculation of the coward is vividly depicted. After being stripped naked, pierced by a sword through the nose and buttocks, the deserter would have animal parts held on him and dogs would be let loose. However, he is warned,

The disgrace for you will be worse than death. The minstrels will mock you. They will also parade you around among the women who will laugh at you. There will be some who will say of you, “His belly looks like (that of) a pregnant woman.” There will be some also who will say of you, “(His) bottom has no itch.” And they will insult you looking at the shame of your penis . . . and the memory of your ignominy will last for all generations.

(Getatchew Haile 1991: 77–8tr.=97tx.)¹¹

Although the specific idioms and language such as “his bottom has no itch” may not be familiar to the modern reader, the intent is apparent.¹² A deserter was an object of ridicule, whose place and appearance all recalled the feminine, rather than the masculine realm of the true soldier.

Indeed, Amdä Seyon himself is said to have articulated this dichotomy when it was suggested that he remain in his camp and not go out to battle because of illness. “Shall I die the death of a woman, I (the king)? I will not die the death of a woman, for I know [how to die] the death of a young warrior . . . and the elder queen said to the younger . . . Let him go forth and die the death of a man” (Huntingford 1965: 84, Kropp 1994: 43tr.=37tx).

Based on all of the evidence above there can be little question that, in addition to its political and economic significance, the violence of Amdä Seyon’s wars carried with it meanings connected with heroism, bravery and masculinity. The Emperor and his soldiers were not merely protecting their kingdom and expanding its borders, but also demonstrating their own worth as warriors and men. However, these were not the only values at stake on the battlefield, and we now turn to the interface between war and the sacred in Christian Ethiopia.

Violence and the sacred

If these clear threats of emasculation were not enough to dissuade potential deserters, it should also be remembered that in highland Ethiopia, as in many other places, war was rarely if ever treated as a purely secular affair.¹³ The forces which clashed on the battlefield were frequently accompanied by religious practitioners of their choice. For Christians, this usually meant members of the monastic clergy, particularly abbots of important monasteries. The involvement of the clergy in a specific campaign often began well before the actual clash of forces on the battlefield. In deciding whether to set out against a particular enemy, rulers frequently sought the advice and blessing of the clergy. Before setting out against his enemies, Amdä Seyon quoted appropriate scriptural passages,¹⁴ announced the favorable prediction of a monk, Zä-Amanu’el, and personally blessed his troops (Huntingford 1965: 70, Kropp 1994: 27tr.=23tx).

In another document in which the king granted land to the monastery of one of his allies, he states, “I went to war trusting in the prayers of [St.] Stephen and my father Krestos-Täsfana” (Taddesse 1970: 96).

Once the battle had begun, the clergy were particularly important in maintaining morale and unity. The army commanded by Amdä Seyon was powerful but fragmented, and he was at times deserted on the battlefield (Huntingford 1965: 89, Kropp 1994: 49tr.=44tx).¹⁵ This was at least partially remedied by a priest named Hezbä Egzi’abher, who revealed that the Son of God himself had personally ...