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Italian
General Oreste Baratieri knew he was outnumbered. But
he seriously underestimated his Ethiopian opponents--and
overestimated the merits of his own battle plan.
Of
all the African powers, only the ancient kingdom of Ethiopia
remained completely free from European domination by the
end of the 19th century. This was no accident of history;
Ethiopia secured its sovereignty by inflicting a decisive
and humiliating defeat upon the Italian invaders at Adowa
(or Adwa) on March 1, 1896. The battle at Adowa was, at
the time, the greatest defeat inflicted upon a European
army by an African army since the time of Hannibal, and
its consequences were felt well into the 20th century.
As an example of colonial warfare on an epic scale, it
cannot be surpassed. As an example of the twin follies
of arrogance and underestimation of one's enemies, it
should never be forgotten.
Ethiopia
has existed as a political entity since biblical times.
The ancient Greeks gave the name "burnt face" to the peoples
who inhabited the little known regions south of Egypt,
and it is from the Greek that the name Ethiopia is derived.
Bisected by the great Rift Valley that runs the length
of the African continent, Ethiopia encompasses fertile
mountainous highlands of moderate climate and unbearably
hot lowlands that fall below sea level in some places.
Christianity
came to the Ethiopians in the 4th century AD and was adopted
with a fanatical passion. A rich, sophisticated and thriving
culture developed among the Ethiopians, producing among
its many treasures beautiful illuminated Bibles in the
ancient language of Geez, the only written language native
to Africa. The advent and aggressive spread of Islam,
however, drove the Ethiopians deeper into their isolated
mountainous highlands, and there they remained for the
next 1,200 years.
In
1868 the outside world encroached upon the mountain kingdom
in the form of 5,000 British and Indian troops sent to
chastise the negus, or emperor, Tewodros II for his detention
of a number of European envoys and missionaries. On April
13, "Mad King Theodore," as the British press soon dubbed
the ill-fated negus, ended the affair by shooting himself,
after being abandoned by his own nobles and decisively
defeated at Magdala by the superior weaponry of the British.
The British then departed, leaving behind a power vacuum
that led to a four-year struggle for power among the feudal
nobility.
The
eventual victory went to Kassa, the ras, or lord, of Tigre,
who had used his gift of surplus British rifles and ammunition
to good effect. Negus Yohannes IV, as he proclaimed himself,
next had to contend with growing pressures from a variety
of external sources. During the 1870s, Ethiopia repelled
repeated attacks from the Egyptian armies of Ismael Pasha,
whose dreams of empire had led him to occupy the Red Sea
port of Massawa, thus blocking Ethiopia's only significant
access to the outside world. Yohannes' armies inflicted
terrible defeats upon the Egyptians, most notably at Gura
on March 7--9, 1876, when 20,000 well-equipped Egyptians,
led by European and American mercenaries, were routed.
In
1885, another foreign power occupied Massawa. Italy had
been trading along the Red Sea coast for some time, but
under the government of Prime Minister Francesco Crispi,
Italian ambitions turned toward the acquisition of a colonial
empire like those of Britain and France. With the consent
of the British government, with whom Crispi had fostered
friendly relations, Italy garrisoned Massawa. The Ethiopians
found this foreign occupation intolerable, and Yohannes
encouraged his Tigrean subjects to harass any Italian
forces attempting to move out from Massawa into Eritrea.
The
Italians steadily expanded into the hinterland of Eritrea
after occupying Massawa, leading to a number of clashes,some
of which verged upon the comic. During a fight at Sabarguma
in March 1885, the appearance of balloons released by
the Italians was enough to panic the attacking force of
Ethiopians. In another incident, electric spotlights so
terrified a Tigrean force attacking at night that the
men froze, petrified, then fled, while the Italians laughed
at their foes. Matters took a more serious turn, however,
on January 26, 1887, when a column of 550 Italians, moving
to relieve the garrison at Saati, was trapped in a narrow
valley and overrun, leaving 430 dead and 82 wounded. That
incident was decried in Italy as "The Dogali Massacre."
While
fending off Italian incursions, Yohannes also had to deal
with his African neighbors. The rise of the Mahdi Mohammed
Ahmed in Sudan led to conflict between the Mahdist and
Ethiopian forces. On March 12, 1889, they clashed at Gallabat
in southern Sudan, both sides invoking their own God to
grant them victory. In a battle more reminiscent of the
medieval Crusades than the later part of the 19th century,
Yohannes was killed and his army fled. Within months,
Ras Menelik of Shoa, Yohannes' great rival, was proclaimed
negus. Crowned as Menelik II (the first Menelik had been
the son of King Solomon of Israel and the queen of Sheba),
Sahle Miriam, Ras Menelik of Shoa, was intelligent, shrewd
and ruthless, all virtues which had helped him to prosper
in the cutthroat world of Ethiopia's feudal politics.
As a young man, Menelik had been held hostage by Tewodros,
and during his captivity he had absorbed a good deal of
Tewodros' fascination with the technology of the outside
world.
He
had also seen with his own eyes the effects of disunity
upon the empire and the rout of the negus' armies by the
British. Menelik realized that Ethiopia's continued sovereignty
would rely upon national unity and military strength.
Since the most dangerous enemies would more than likely
be European, Menelik decided that the procurement of modern
weaponry was essential.
With
funds from the sale of ivory, gold, silver, musk and slaves
as well as from taxes, the negus embarked upon a major
effort to import modern rifles and artillery via the French-controlled
port of Djibouti, along with whatever he could cajole
out of the Italians in Massawa. Over the next few years,
tens of thousands of magazine-loading rifles, millions
of rounds of ammunition and dozens of modern rifled artillery
guns were brought by caravan on a tortuous route from
the coastal lowlands to Menelik's new capital at Addis
Ababa. By the mid-1890s, Menelik was able to field an
army in which the majority of his warriors were armed
with the best weapons that Europe and the United States
could offer.
The
Italians had been cultivating friendship with Menelik
for years by supplying him with rifles. When he came to
the throne, their support seemed to have payed off--surely,
Rome reasoned, this new negus would compliantly surrender
sovereignty to his former sponsors. On May 2, 1889, Menelik
signed the Treaty of Wichale (or Uccialli), in which he
ceded to the Italians part of Yohannes' native province
of Tigre and some of the adjacent highlands.
In
a Machiavellian subterfuge, the Italian government touted
the Treaty of Wichale as legal proof that Menelik had
ceded sovereignty to Rome. The trick was eminently simple,
the kind that had been played on native rulers by European
traders and settlers for centuries. As far as Rome was
concerned, Menelik was little more than an unsophisticated
barbarian.
Article
XVII of the treaty, concerning Ethiopia's diplomatic representation
outside of Africa, had been presented for signing as two
documents, one written in Italian and one written in Amharic.
The Italian version of Article XVII stated, "The Emperor
consents to use the Italian government for all the business
he does with all the other Powers or Governments." Article
XVII of the Amharic version read somewhat differently:
"The Emperor has the option to communicate with the help
of the Italian government for all matters that he wants
with the kings of Europe." Needless to say, the Italian
negotiators failed to inform the Ethiopian court of the
none-too-subtle differences between the two versions of
the treaty.
Menelik,
however, was at heart a nationalist, and subservience
to any power was anathema to him. When he discovered the
subterfuge in the treaty, Menelik rejected it. Despite
a belated attempt by the Italians to buy him off with
a gift of 2 million cartridges, he continued to characterize
the Italians as cheats. The European powers remained deaf
to his complaints, however, and all but Turkey, Russia
and France accepted the Italian version of affairs.
The
Italians then began to cultivate Yohannes' eldest son,
Ras Mangasha, as Menelik's rival to the throne and made
moves to assist Mangasha in establishing a base of support
in Tigre. But Tigre had been devastated by famine and
war, and the promised Italian aid failed to appear. Mangasha
made his peace with Menelik in June 1894, and later in
the year many other lords followed Mangasha's lead. Menelik's
power grew until he truly became negusa nagast, the "king
of kings"--the first such Ethiopian leader in centuries.
Menelik
now felt that the time had come to confront the Italians
directly. "God, in his bounty, has struck down my enemies
and enlarged my empire and preserved me to this day,"
he declared. "I have reigned by the grace of God....Enemies
have come who would ruin our country and change our religion.
They have passed beyond the sea which God gave us as our
frontier....These enemies have advanced, burrowing into
the country like moles. With God's help I will get rid
of them."
Rome,
however, was unimpressed. The Italian governor of Eritrea,
General Oreste Baratieri, moved quickly to crush a premature
uprising in Tigre and pursued Mangasha's army across the
Ethiopian frontier, capturing Adigrat, Adowa and Makalle.
Returning to Italy, Baratieri was hailed as a hero and
received an ovation from the national parliament. He subsequently
secured a substantial increase in the financial subsidy
paid by Rome to its colony in Eritrea. Inspired by Crispi's
description of the Ethiopians as "barbarians whose material
progress and spiritual salvation cried out for the high
ministry of Roman civilization," Baratieri promised to
bring Menelik back in a cage.
While
Baratieri was basking in the adulation of the Italian
government and people, Menelik had summoned his feudal
host to gather at Addis Ababa. When the army had assembled,
196,000 men--more than half armed with modern rifles--were
available to the negus, including 34,000 absolutely loyal
Shoan royal troops. Against that army, Baratieri could
bring a force of 25,000 men--a well-equipped but mixed
bag of Eritrean askari (native troops), European conscripts
and elite bersaglieri and alpini. Baratieri knew nothing
of the disparity in numbers until December 7, 1895, when
a force of 1,300 askari, under the command of Major Pietro
Toselli, was annihilated by some 30,000 Ethiopians in
a narrow pass on the mountain of Amba Alagi. Shortly after
that, another horde of Ethiopian warriors besieged Makalle.
Originally
one of Giuseppe Garibaldi's "Thousand Redshirts" who invaded
Sicily in 1860, Baratieri had enough experience in warfare
to realize that a dangerous situation was developing.
He withdrew his forces to Adigrat and dug in, resolved
to watch and wait. Unable to be relieved, the 1,200-man
Italian garrison at Makalle endured a 45-day siege until
Menelik allowed the garrison safe conduct and offered
to negotiate with Rome. Outraged by the perceived insult
to the honor of the army and nation, the Crispi government
ignored the negus' entreaties and dispatched reinforcements
to Massawa. It also allocated a further 20 million lire
to pursue the war against Menelik. In Adigrat, Baratieri
still waited. As he saw it, the Ethiopians were little
more than an undisciplined horde of savages who were no
match for the rifles and artillery he could deploy against
them. That would be especially so if the Ethiopians could
be lured into an assault upon the strong defensive positions
he had constructed. The enemy did not oblige him, however.
Instead, Menelik's army occupied Adowa in a move that
threatened to outflank Adigrat.
The
Italians dug a fresh line of defenses at Sauria and posted
20,000 troops and 56 guns there to block any Ethiopian
advance from Adowa. Still, Menelik did not come. The waiting
game continued through February 1896. Supplies in both
camps began to run short. Menelik had planned his war
well and ordered that gibbir, or "the king's feeding of
his men," depots be established along his route of march.
The negus had provided for his army so well that after
two months in the field his soldiers had still not touched
their sinq, the Ethiopian soldier's campaign ration, consisting
of two weeks' worth of grain, dried meat and other foods.
Yet even Menelik had not anticipated the long months of
indecisive activity, and the food supplies for his army
were rapidly running out. In late February, the negus
reluctantly conceded that if the Italians remained behind
their fortifications, he would be obliged to break up
his army and retreat.
Matters
were not much better on the Italian side. Hampered by
a lack of transport animals and the poor tracks leading
up from Massawa, Baratieri's men had been reduced to half
rations, but even that expedient would not allow them
to remain at Sauria past March 2. The stalemate continued
until February 25, when Crispi, desperate to secure a
military victory for domestic political reasons, cabled
a message to Baratieri that came close to accusing the
general of cowardice and incompetence. Shaken by the telegram,
Baratieri called together the commanders of his four brigades
and sought their advice. To a man, they counseled attack.
Baratieri was at first reluctant, but was eventually persuaded
to go on the offensive. The Italian army prepared to advance
from its lines at Sauria on the evening of February 29
(1896 being leap year).
Meanwhile,
Menelik had seen his proud host dwindling daily as his
warriors, ravaged by disease and hunger, slippe away to
search for food or return to their homes in the distant
mountains to the east. With resignation, the negus decided
that he must order the great camp to break up. Thus it
was with surprise bordering on disbelief that he received
at his tent a frantic rider who brought news that the
ferangi, or foreigners, were advancing in strength to
attack the camp and were even now engaged in fighting
with the negus' army. Menelik, dressed in the white robes
of a common soldier and accompanied by Taitu, his empress,
and a procession of richly accoutered priests, spent a
moment in prayer. While he did so, the warrior host of
Ethiopia roused itself and surged toward the sound of
battle.
Baratieri
knew that the Ethiopians outnumbered his force--even though
he still grossly underestimated their real numbers--so
he still sought to goad the negus' army into attacking
on his terms. He planned to advance his force, which consisted
of 17,700 men and 56 guns, under cover of darkness. By
dawn on March 1, Baratieri expected that his troops would
be dug in on the high ground overlooking the Ethiopian
camp at Adowa. Menelik would be obliged to either attack
the Italians frontally--in which case his army would be
destroyed--or retreat. In concept it was a sound plan,
but unfortunately for Baratieri and his men, it began
to go wrong almost from the start.
Baratieri
planned for each of his four brigades to advance along
separate routes and arrive at their objectives before
dawn. At
2:30 a.m.,
the general advance commenced, but it was not long before
difficulties occurred. As each of the brigades began to
move, the Italians soon found themselves struggling through
precipitous passes, across barren hills and around the
steep ravines, gorges and treacherous crevasses that cut
up the country so badly that one Italian officer described
it as "a stormy sea moved by the anger of God." It hardly
helped matters that the only maps the Italians possessed
were little more than ambiguous sketches and proved to
be of little use. Parts of the 4,000-man askari brigade
of Brig. Gen. Matteo Albertone, which formed the left
wing of the advance, soon became confused in the darkness
and blundered into the path of Brig. Gen. Arimondi's brigade
of European troops, who formed the center of the advance.
Arimondi's troops halted, and the confused formations
were not finally untangled until 4 a.m.
As
the center of Baratieri's advance came to a halt, the
majority of Albertone's brigade and the right flank brigade
of Brig. Gen. Vittorio Dabormida--completely unaware of
the confusion in their rear--continued to advance. Albertone
soon reached what he thought to be the hill of Kidane
Meret, the objective of his advance. The general had just
halted when the Ethiopian guide attached to his headquarters
informed him that Kidane Meret actually lay another 41*2
miles to his front. Not knowing that Arimondi's brigade
was still languishing behind him, Albertone assumed that
his colleague's men were now out to his right front somewhere,
their left flank uncovered and drawing farther away. Without
further delay, Albertone ordered his brigade forward.
By
6 a.m. the askari had covered about 21*2 miles when
they encountered the Ethiopians. Baratieri, who had been
advancing with Brig. Gen. Ellena's reserve brigade, began
to receive reports of some type of action developing to
the left of his army and of increasing contacts to Arimondi's
front. Lingering darkness and heavy morning mists obscured
much of what was happening, but it was obvious that Albertone
was being heavily engaged.
At
7:45 a.m. Baratieri issued orders to Dabormida to
swing his brigade to the left and move to support the
army's center. For some reason, Dabormida's brigade moved
toward the right flank--directly away from where it was
supposed to go--and a gap of about two miles opened between
it and the rest of the army. Dabormida's movement could
not have occurred at a worse time for the Italians, for
as the gap opened, Ras Makonnen of Harrar and 30,000 warriors
arrived and lunged forward into the opening.
From
the crests of hills and ridges and from out of the narrow
passes, Menelik's warriors came on in waves, a sea of
green, orange and red standards, copper and gold crucifixes,
burnished metal helmets, dyed-cloth headdresses and lion's-mane-adorned
shields. Menelik's force consisted of 82,000 rifle- and
sword-armed infantry, 20,000 spearmen and 8,000 cavalry--the
fierce Oromo horsemen roaring their war cry "Ebalgume!
Ebalgume!" (Reap! Reap!). In addition, 40 quick-firing
mountain guns were set up on the slopes of Kidane Meret.
Although the Ethiopian gunners had been schooled in the
use of their weapons by Russian adventurers, they were
in no way expert in their use. Even so, the shells they
sent forth added to the discomfiture of their enemies.
Ras Tekla-Haymanot commanded the right wing, Ras
Alula the left. Ras Mangasha and Ras Makonnen jointly
commanded the center. Menelik, with 25,000 royal troops
and the best of the cavalry, and Empress Taitu, with 3,000
infantry and 600 cavalry, remained in reserve.
Well-armed
as they were, the Ethiopian army was still the product
of a medieval society, and once the enemy was sighted
all discipline was forgotten. To European eyes, their
attacks resembled "a flood of men following a giddy course."
Impassioned by patriotic zeal and a great deal of religious
fervor, the Ethiopian warriors came on, in the words of
one Italian officer who had survived the fight at Dogali
in 1887, "like madmen." Traditional tactics revolved around
exploiting the enemy's flank and enveloping him when the
opportunity arose. The isolated Italian brigades presented
excellent targets for just such tactics.
By
8:15 the morning mists had dissipated, exposing a
panorama of hills and valleys swarming with Ethiopians
and rapidly becoming enshrouded in clouds of black powder
smoke. Italian firepower held the warriors at bay; Fitaurari
(general) Gagjehu tried to break the stalemate by throwing
aside his rifle and shield and leading his men with only
a stick--only to be shot down. Losing men and momentum,
Menelik was about to order retreat, but Empress Taitu
and Ras Maneasha persuaded him to commit the 25,000 men
of his imperial guard to a final assault on Kidane Meret.
Those last reserves proved to be decisive.
At
about 8:30, Albertone's brigade, having fought well
for more than two hours but receiving no reply to his
plea for reinforcements, began to break up. Most of his
officers were already dead, having fallen to Tekla-Haymanot's
gojam cavalry. Albertone was taken prisoner. Then the
askari, assailed on all sides by what seemed to be limitless
numbers of ferocious enemies, gave up the struggle. Those
who could fled toward the positions held by Arimondi's
brigade around Mount Bellah, about two miles to the rear.
Arimondi's
artillery held its fire until the askari could reach safety.
It was only at the last minute that Arimondi's soldiers
realized that Ethiopians were mixed in among the askari.
Too late to fire, the gunners and infantrymen of the central
brigade soon found themselves at close quarters with hordes
of sword- and rifle-wielding foes. Assailed from the front
and both flanks, Arimondi's men fought back with a courage
born of desperation and took a heavy toll on their attackers.
At
9:15, Baratieri galloped up from his position with
the reserve brigade to see the situation for himself.
He still had no idea of Dabormida's actual location and
assumed that the general and his brigade were still complying
with the orders he had issued earlier to move to support
Arimondi. Meanwhile, growing numbers of Ethiopians charged
Arimondi's brigade in waves, the frontmost warriors armed
with rifles while those behind brandished traditional
swords and spears. The Italians fired with deadly effect,
mowing down hundreds of warriors, but they could not break
the Ethiopian attacks.
By
about 10 o'clock, the high ground on the spur of
Mount Bellah had fallen to hordes of Shoan warriors, and
the situation for Arimondi's brigade was becoming critical.
Two companies of bersaglieri failed to drive the Shoans
off Mount Bellah, and at about 10:15, Lt. Col.
Galliano's 3rd Native Battalion, holding part of the left
of the brigade's line, gave way. Caught amid a sea of
screaming enemy warriors and subjected to a storm of shot
and occasional shell, the Italians continued to resist
for about an hour and a half. Then, with their position
becoming more precarious with each passing minute, Baratieri
ordered a retreat. Arimondi and Galliano were among the
thousands who did not survive.
Withdrawal
in the face of a relentless enemy is a dangerous maneuver,
requiring steady nerves, discipline and, above all, good
tactical leadership. In the debacle that followed Baratieri's
order to retire, none of those virtues were obvious. Within
minutes the central brigade had dissolved into a rabble
that fled back toward Sauria, abandoning its wounded,
artillery and most weapons. Shouting "Viva l'Italia,"
Baratieri managed to rally a few alpini and bersaglieri
behind the protection of a walled enclosure, but he could
do nothing to stem the panic. By just after midday, Menelik's
warriors had completely destroyed two of the three Italian
brigades that had advanced against him.
When
General Baratieri had proposed retreating as one option
open to his army at the officers' council on February
28, Dabormida had cried, "Retire? Never!" In the hours
that followed the destruction of Albertone's and Arimondi's
brigades, Dabormida would suffer the bitter consequences
of his ill-considered bravado.
About
two miles to the northwest of Mount Bellah lay the valley
of Mariam Shavitu, about 800 yards wide and two miles
long. Since about 10 a.m., Dabromida's brigade had been
in the valley, engaged in a firefight with increasing
numbers of Ethiopians.
By
2 p.m., as the slopes above Miriam Sahvitu seethed
with Ethiopians, he began to wonder what had happened
to the rest of the army. There had been no word from Baratieri
since earlier that morning, and Dabormida paced about,
openly commenting on what seemed to be the disappearance
of headquarters. As the enemy numbers grew and the pressure
on his brigade intensified, Dabormida decided to withdraw
along a track leading to the north from Miriam Shavitu.
In contrast to the rout at Mount Bellah, Dabormida's soldiers
conducted a well-ordered withdrawal. Fighting from behind
rocks and boulders and from trenches they had dug that
morning, Dabormida's soldiers contested every yard of
the Ethiopian's advance. The gunners defended their pieces
to the end, falling beneath the hacking swords and stabbing
spears of the Ethiopians, and the infantry rear guards
stood their ground until annihilated.
It
was a battle with no quarter. Since time immemorial, the
Ethiopian armies had fought war with the object of utterly
destroying their enemies. The Oromo horsemen of Ras Mikail
swept in and through the ranks of Italians, slashing and
stabbing at the soldiers, while wave after wave of foot
warriors rushed forward. Dabormida, wounded and by then
no doubt realizing the disaster that had befallen his
command, dragged himself to a small village and asked
a local woman for a drink of water. No record exists of
where and how the general met his death, but months later
his remains were found lying among those of thousands
of his soldiers scattered along the valley.
The
Battle of Adowa cost the lives of 289 Italian officers,
2,918 European soldiers and about 2,000 askari. A further
954 European troops were missing, while 470 Italians and
958 askari were wounded. Some 700 Italians and 1,800 askari
fell into the hands of the Ethiopian troops. About 70
Italians and 230 askari were tortured to death before
Menelik discovered it and put a stop to it. After enduring
a terrible forced march back to Addis Ababa through the
cold and rain of the highlands, the rest of the captives
were held for several months until the Europeans were
released in exchange for payment of a 10 million lire
"reparation" by the Italian government.
Some
800 Tigrean askari prisoners did not fare so well; they
were subjected to the traditional punishment for disloyalty
by having their right hands and left feet amputated. In
addition to the human losses, Baratieri's army lost 11,000
rifles and all of its 56 guns and had to endure attacks
by the Tigrean peasantry as it retreated.
For
Baratieri, who only months earlier had been lauded by
the Italian government, his military career was over.
Even before Adowa, the government secretly had decided
to relieve him of command and dispatched his replacement.
The political consequences of the defeat were even greater.
After news of the debacle reached Rome, angry crowds filled
the streets of most Italian cities. Humiliated by the
utter collapse of his colonial policy, Prime Minister
Crispi and his cabinet resigned.
An
estimated 7,000 warriors died at Adowa, and 10,000 were
wounded. Ethiopia had never before had to pay such a price
for victory, and for a while a note of war weariness echoed
through the ranks of Menelik's host. Yet it had been a
victory, and a great one at that. Eritrea was Menelik's
for the taking, and he ordered his army to mass on the
border of the Italian colony. But he did not give the
order to invade.
Historians
have long debated why the negus did not exploit his advantage
over the Italians at that time--indeed, his nobles were
urging him to do so. The thought of further grievous losses,
the claimed lack of cavalry horses or the inhospitable
wilderness through which his army would have to march
to reach the Italians were all factors that may have stayed
his hand. Menelik also knew that soon many of his feudal
warriors would wish to return to their homes for the annual
plowing and sowing of their crops.
The
actual motivation may have been more subtle, however.
Menelik recognized Italy's craving for a colonial empire,
and Eritrea was the young nation's most valuable colonial
possession. Its loss would compel the Italians to reply
with all their resources. Such a war would be one that
Menelik could not hope to win. Whatever lay behind his
decision, Menelik made two simple demands of the new government
in Rome--the abolition of the Treaty of Wichale and the
unconditional recognition of Ethiopia's independence.
He was, in effect, asking for a return to the status quo
of 1889.
Within
months of the Battle of Adowa, European nations rushed
to establish diplomatic representation with the negus.
Menelik accepted all comers, including the envoys from
Rome, balancing in the Byzantine manner of Ethiopian politics
each of the suitors against one another. To the French,
he secretly offered support for their claims to the upper
Nile in return for part of French Somaliland. To the British,
he offered assistance against the Mahdists in the Sudan,
receiving an agreement to waive duty on goods imported
through British Somaliland as his reward. To the Mahdists,
he offered a commercial pact.
On
October 26, 1896, Rome signed the Treaty of Addis Ababa,
sensibly accepting Menelik's liberal terms to end the
war. Thus secure, the negus launched a campaign of conquest
against the Kaffa and Galla peoples who lived to the south
and, after crushing them, added the looted wealth of those
lands to the royal treasury. Throughout the world, the
news of Adowa created a surge of racial pride among people
of African descent. In places as diverse as Haiti, the
Gold Coast, South Africa and the United States, black
people hailed Menelik's victory, and Ethiopia became a
place of pilgrimage for black intellectuals and religious
leaders.
Four
decades later, as Benito Mussolini's legions overran Ethiopia,
fascist propaganda justified the aggression as an opportunity
to erase the lingering humiliation of Italy's defeat at
Menelik's hands. The rout of General Baratieri's army
did indeed have far-reaching consequences. Adowa saved
Ethiopia from Italian colonization and raised its status
from that of an isolated nation whose institutions,heritage
and people where held in contempt to that of an equal
partner in the world community of nations. March 1 is
a national day of celebration in Ethiopia, and the events
of 1896 are remembered with pride.
Greg
Blake teaches history in Darwin, Australia. Further reading:
The Campaign of Adowa and the Rise of Menelik, by Sir
George F.H. Berkeley; The Life and Times of Menelik II:
Ethiopia 1844--1913, by Harold G. Marcus; Conquest and
Resistance to Colonialism in Africa, by G. Maddox; and
One House: The Battle of Adwa 1896--100 Years, edited
by Pamela S. Brown and Fassil Yirgu.
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