By Dr. Richard Pankhurst:-

The classical, Byzantine, style of Ethiopian art, characteristic of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, developed significantly in the seventeenth century. This was the so-called Gondar period, so named after the city of that name, in the north-west of the country, which became the capital of the Ethiopian realm in 1636.

This period, which witnessed the construction of the city’s famous castle-like palaces, and the development of a more urban form of court life, may likewise have seen the expansion, and reorganisation, of scriptoria for the making of manuscripts.

Art as Seen by the Artist

The period also coincided with a significant opening up of Ethiopian art, and in particular with the depiction of Ethiopian scenes, and Ethiopian life, as actually seen by the artist.

Ethiopian art in this period remained religious in both purpose and content, and continued to be devoted almost exclusively to Biblical and other religious themes. Paintings were, however, steadily being Ethiopianised. The old Ethiopian artistic rules, such as good persons being shown in full face, with two eyed, and evil people in profile, with one eye, were retained, and paintings continued to be devoid of perspective. It became, however, common to depict Biblical personages as dressed in Ethiopian clothing, riding mules or horses with typical Ethiopian saddles, stirrups (often to hold only the big toe!) and other trappings, as well as carrying contemporary Ethiopian spears, shields and other weapons. Banquet scenes would depict Ethiopian-style pots, the masob, or typical Ethiopian basket table, and the barelle, or Ethiopian drinking-glass. Ploughing would likewise be very visibly carried out by Ethiopian zebu, or humped, oxen, pulling traditional Ethiopian ploughs, and kings and queens would be wearing Ethiopianstyle crowns. Such paintings, unlike those of earlier times, are thus documents of fundamental importance for Ethiopian social history.

Islamic Manuscripts

This study has focused mainly on Ethiopian Christian manuscripts, which, from the quantitative point of view, represents the main corpus of the country’s traditional literature. Mention should, however, also be made to Ethiopian Islamic and Falasha, or Bta Esra’l, manuscripts.

Ethiopian Islamic manuscripts consisted mainly of copies of the Quran, and other works in Arabic, but also included a number of texts in Adare, or Harari, the local Semitic language traditionally spoken only within the walled city of Harar. Harari manuscripts, which resemble Islamic works produced elsewhere in the Horn of Africa, probably date back to the early centuries of the Muslim era. Few, if any, Harari manuscripts are, however, extant for the period prior the seventeenth century.

The first description of Harari manuscripts was written by the nineteenth century British traveller and Orientalist, Sir Richard Burton, translator of the Arabian Nights, who observed that “no Eastern country save Persia” could “surpass them in strength and appearance”.

Such manuscripts, like the Christian manuscripts described in the previous article, have tooled leather covers, but differ from the latter in that they were generally written on paper rather than on parchment. Unlike the Christian manuscripts they had leather flaps to cover, and protect, the back of the volume. Covers are often decorated with ornate floral designs, in a few instances with a quotation from the Quran, cursing anyone who illegally touched the manuscript.

Falasha Manuscripts

Falasha manuscripts, which like those of the Ethiopian Christian Church, were invariably made of parchment, and were written in Ge’ez. Falasha texts centred on the Old Testament, to the rigid exclusion of the New. Most Falasha writings were identical to those of the Ethiopian Christians. Falasha bindings, though not generally adorned with the Cross, were likewise generally similar to those of Christian manuscripts. This was scarcely surprising as many Falasha manuscripts were in fact written, and bound, by members of the Ethiopian Christian clergy.

Ethiopian Manuscripts Today

Ethiopia has a rich manuscript tradition.

Christian manuscripts cover a wide range of literature, including not only Bibles, religious service books, homilies, Biblical commentaries, and works on theology, but also writings on ecclesiastical and civil law, lives of saints, local as well as foreign, history, chronography and medicine.

Harari manuscripts likewise contain, in addition of the Quran, a wealth of other material, both religious and secular. The latter includes legal, historic, and other material.

Many Ethiopian manuscripts, particularly those of the Christian tradition, are furthermore important in that their beginning or end pages were used to record details of marriages and marriage settlements, land deeds and sales, inventories of property, and other such-like interesting information.

A Quarter of a Million Manuscripts

Ethiopia is the repository of an immense number of manuscripts. Printing was introduced into the country only at the end of the last century, so many Ethiopian churches and monasteries still rely largely on volumes in parchment. The country, which is almost the size of Spain and France combined, contains a total of around 30,000 churches and monasteries, few of which possess less than a dozen manuscripts each. It would therefore seem safe to assume that the country must be the repository of at least a quarter or a third of a million manuscript volumes.

Many Ethiopian mosques likewise still rely on manuscript Qurans. These, being for the most part written on paper, are considerably more fragile than Ethiopian Christian manuscripts, and therefore in even greater need of protection, and conservation.

The EMML

To preserve Ethiopia’s important historical and cultural heritage an ambitious project for the microfilming of Ethiopian manuscripts was initiated in 1971. Based on a partnership between the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, the Ethiopian Government, later represented by its Ministry of Culture, and St John’s University in Collegeville, Minnesota, it led to the establishment, in 1973, of a Ethiopian Manuscript Microfilm Library, generally referred to by its initials, EMML.The last volume to be published to date, Volume X, has reached manuscript number 5,000, and there are many many more microfilms for which catalogues have still to be catalogued. It is, however, deplorable that actual microfilming by the EMML ceased some years ago, and the authorities concerned, as far as we are aware, do not seem to be giving the matter the serious attention it deserves.

Microfilming, of Christian manuscripts, has also been carried out, on a smaller scale, by other institutions, most notably by UNESCO.

Such work, important as it is, is still far from complete. Manuscripts in many parts of the country have still not been microfilmed. Much has still to be done to record the country’s historical, cultural, and especially artistic, heritage. This is the more urgent in that the opening up of tourism has been followed by increasingly frequent illegal sales of works of art.

Wanted: The Microfilming of Islamic Manuscripts

The EMML and UNESCO projects have up to now been restricted entirely to the microfilming of Ethiopian Christian manuscripts. It is imperative, as I have urged in previous atticles in “Addis Tribune”, that microfilming be extended to Harari, and other Islamic manuscripts. Being written, as already noted, on paper, their life expectation is far less than that of Ethiopian parchment manuscripts. A project for the systematic microfilming of Harai , and other Muslim manuscripts, is therefore long overdue.

Urgently Needed: The Photographing of Church Paintings

Ethiopia’s increasing wealth, so charcteristic of recent years, has produced a new economic climate in which many communities are restoring, and hence repainting, their churches. This is of course a simple remedy for the destruction of much of the country’s artistic heritage.

It is accordingly important to embark on a systematic, and ambitious, programme for the photographing of church paintings, as well to re-activate, the microfilming of manuscripts.

 Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org

 

By Dr. Richard Pankhurst:-

Ethiopian Bookmanship

Ethiopian bookmanship, at least by the fourteenth or fifteenth centuries, was highly developed. Manuscripts were often beautifully fashioned, and indeed works of art, and craftsmanship, in their own right.

Parchment, or Vellum

Manuscripts were invariably made of parchment, usually fashioned from cow, sheep or goat skin, but sometimes also of horse hide, which enabled the production of particularly large sheets of vellum. Manuscripts were in many cases strongly bound, and often covered with stout wooden boards, generally made from either the wanza tree(Cordia africana) or the (Olea africana).

Leather and its Production

The finer volumes, those belonging in particular to important churches, monasteries, and imperial and other rulers, were often covered with beautifully fashioned leather.

The preparation of leather was a well-established Ethiopian traditional craft, but imported skin from Arabia was later also used, and is to this day known as arab leather. Leather bindings were in many cases tooled with a variety of decorative motifs. Most of these were based on a large central cross, often framed by a series of box-like designs, and some kind of simple border decoration. Many such themes, to judge by datable examples, changed remarkably little over the centuries, with the incidental result that manuscripts can scarcely be dated by their binding styles.

Gold Bindings

Some of the finest Ethiopian bindings were plated in gold, or elaborately decorated with gold thread. Such volumes were, however, naturally very rare, and, because of their immense value, sadly tended to attract the attention of looters, particularly in time of war.

Very few indeed are today extant.

Imported Cloth

The inside front and back covers of Ethiopian manuscripts were in many cases attractively adorned with pieces of imported cloth, which was pasted into the interior bindings. Many of the fabrics, printed cottons, silks, damasks and the like, came from Gujarat and the Deccan in India, as well as from Egypt, the Ottoman Empire, and parts of Europe, particularly Italy and France. Often of pristine quality the place of origin, as well as the date of production of such cloth, can in many cases be established, with a high degree of certainty. Such cloth binding material is therefore of considerable help in helping to date manuscripts, as well as in tracing historical and commercial contacts between Ethiopia and the outside world.

“Indian” Ink, and Rubrication

The text of the manuscript was no less beautifully presented. Pages were neatly ruled, with a reed ruler, and awl for incising lines. On these latter the scribe wrote almost invariably with considerable care, using locally-made ink held in a speciallyfashioned cow-horn. Texts, in Ge’ez, the country’s Semitic, and eccleasistical, language, were written with considerable calligraphic skill, in jet black ink, like that known in Europe as Indian ink. The names of God, members of the Holy Family, Saints, and such-like figures were, however, often rubricated, or written in red ink. The process of writing a manuscript is not infrequently vividly depicted in Ge’ez copies of the Gospels, many of which show each of the Evangelists, pen in hand, with two ink-horns, one for black ink, and the other for red.

Ethiopian manuscript illustrations took the form of paintings, almost entirely of Biblical or other religious scenes, and harag, literally “vine”, a creeper-like decorative device often found at the beginning or end of the manuscript, or of chapters in the Bible or other works.

The writing, and illustration, of a typical manuscript, even if commissioned by a church, monarch, or wealthy individual, was regarded by the scribe as an act of devotion to God, and could take as much as a year to complete.

Method of Manuscript Illustration

No contemporary account of the method of manuscript illustration in Ethiopia is extant. A fair understanding of the process, and of the successive stages of such illustration, can, however, be deduced by an examination of manuscripts which were for one reason or another left unfinished.

Scrutiny of such volumes indicates that the first step would be for the entire text to be written, leaving spaces, large or small, for the subsequent inclusion of pictures. Before starting to draw, the artist might, however, make one or more trial sketches, perhaps on an empty page or a loose piece on parchment. Artists might also make use of pattern books, which, to judge from such works as are extant, seem nevertheless to have been extremely rare. More proficient, or self-assured, artists might, on the other hand, entirely dispense with such preliminaries.

A Charcoal Outline, Later Inked In

The first step would be for the artist to draw the outlines of the desired picture in charcoal. The use of this medium allowed him to revise, or rework, his drawing, and thus “feel his way”, as he thought fit, to a final version. Once satisfied with his charcoal outline he would firmly delineate its main features, permanently, in black ink. On the completion of this outline the drawing would be ready for colouring. This was a virtually routine operation, with little further artistic creativity, for pigments were almost invariably applied flatly, without any attempt to impart a rounded characteristic to the figures, or to depict light and dark, or shadows. The range of paints employed was moreover usually extremely narrow, confined perhaps to a single shade of only four colours: red, yellow, blue, and green.

Colouring

Artists, in the process of colouring, would invariably start at the beginning of the manuscript. Using a single colour, they would start by painting the sky, or some other background feature, for a number of pages, before turning to other aspects of the painting. On completing the background, or portion thereof, in any particular colour the artist would be tempted to continue using the same paint on other parts of the work. This was because employing the same colour obviated the need to clean the brush, or to search out or prepare paint of another hue. Only when the background was finally completed, would the artist usually turn to the foreground, and, with it. the painting’s principal features.

Henry Salt

The above procedures for the production of illustrated manuscripts seem to have been deeply ingrained in Ethiopian artistic life. The early nineteenth century British traveller Henry Salt recalls that, being “desirous of bringing home an example of Abyssinian art”, he begged the “chief painter” at Cheliqot, in Tegray, to paint for him “one of his best paintings”. The artist, he recalls, accordingly, “made an exact outline of it with charcoal, and afterwards went over it with a coarse sort of India ink, subsequently to which he introduced the colour”.

 Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org

By Dr. Richard Pankhurst:-

The Coming of Christianity

Ethiopia was one of the first countries in the world to adopt the Christian faith. Local tradition holds that this conversion occurred as early as at the time of the Apostles. Be that as it may, we know that King Ezana of the Aksumite kingdom, in what is now the northern highlands of Ethiopia, issued coins bearing the Cross of Christ already around 330AD. The Aksum realm was indeed the first in the world to strike money with this device. Ezana also erected several inscriptions, which seem to confirm that the conversion to Christianity took place during or around to the time of his reign.

Ethiopia’s conversion, according to Byzantine author Rufinus, whose account is near contemporary, and apparently worthy of credence, was carried out by

Frumentius, a Greek-speaking youth from Syria. Shipwrecked off the Red Sea coast of Africa, he was taken to Aksum, the capital of the Aksumite realm. There he entered the service of the ruling monarch, perhaps Ezana’s father, and seems to have converted either the latter or Ezana himself. Frumentius, at around this time, or a little later, established the first “conventicles”, in Aksum, where early Christians “might resort in prayer”. He later travelled to Alexandria, then a great centre of Christianity, where the famous Patriarch Athanasius duly consecrated him as Ethiopia’s first Bishop, after which he adopted the name Abba Salama, or Father of Peace.

The Nine Saints

This conversion, an important turning-point in Ethiopian history, was followed by the coming to the country of a stream of Christians from other lands. Most notable among them were the so-called Nine Saints: Abba Alf, Abba Sehma, Abba Aragawi, Abba Afse, Abba Garima, Abba Pantalewon, Abba Likanos, Abba Guba, and Abba Yem’ata. They were Christian missionaries from Syria, or “Rom”, i.e. the Eastern Roman Empire, as Ethiopian historical texts term it. These visitors from the far-off Christian world established monasteries in the northern Ethiopian highlands, often on virtually inaccessible mountains.

The advent of these foreign missionaries, and the monasteries they founded, placed the Aksumite kingdom, and later the Ethiopian state which developed therefrom, firmly within the orbit of Eastern Christendom. It subsequently became customary for the Ethiopians to obtain their chief religious dignitary, their Abun, or Metropolitan, from Coptic Egypt. It is, however, entirely incorrect to describe Ethiopian Christianity, as is often done, as Coptic, for there have always been many differences, both organisational and doctrinal, between the Ethiopian and Coptic churches.

Ethiopian Monasticism

The coming of the Nine Saints was a major religious and cultural event, for it strengthened the country’s Christian affiliation, and led to the introduction of the monastic system. This was accompanied by the emergence of a religious-based system of education.

Such education was culturally important, even though it was almost entirely restricted to boys, and limited, like that in medieval Europe, to a small proportion of the population.

Ethiopian Church Education

Education, in Ethiopian Church schools, began with the study of Dawit, i.e.the Psalms of David, through which the youngsters learnt the alphabet. This introductory study was followed by a degree of specialisation, in which students devoted themselves to such subjects as the Bible, qen, or church poetry, zema, or church chant, and aqwaqwam, or religious deportment.

Many children abandoned their studies scarcely literate, but others continued to study diligently for as long as twenty or more years. Some such scholars could recite the entire Bible from memory, as well differing interpretations of many of its passages. Some clerics also learnt to draw and paint, to produce parchment, to bind manuscripts, and, as craftsmen, to make various items of church paraphernalia, including church vestments, crosses, sistra, bells, and drums used in religious services.

The above old-time Ethiopian system of church education was the only kind of schooling in the country until the introduction of modern education in the first decade of the twentieth century. Though naturally now far less important than in the past, has indeed continued, scarcely interrupted, up to the present time.

Patron of the Arts

The Ethiopian Church was, throughout this period, the principal, and indeed almost sole, patron of culture and the arts. The church was to the fore, in particular, in the fields of both painting and book production. Ethiopian art, throughout the centuries, was indeed essentially Christian art, and Ethiopian literature, very largely Christian literature.

Early Ethiopian Art

Ethiopian church art, and manuscripts, many of them embodying translations of the Bible, probably began to be produced at the time of the country’s conversion, or at least by the time of the Nine Saints.

The earliest extant paintings and manuscripts date, however, only to around the thirteenth century. It is presumed that works produced prior to that time were probably destroyed in the course of the country’s frequent wars, or by the ravages of time, and of the elements.

Icons, and Wall Paintings

Ethiopian church art, which has been described as Byzantine art in an African setting, was devoted almost entirely to Biblical and Christian themes. Such art manifested itself in three distinct areas: 1) icons, 2) wall paintings, and 3) manuscript illustration – miniatures as they are sometimes called.

Icons, which were kept in churches, and apparently sometimes also in palaces and in the houses of the greater nobility and clergy, were regarded with great veneration. Such works of art were painted on wood, either as single panels, or as diptychs or triptychs.

Wall paintings, in the early stone churches, among them the famous rock-hewn churches of Lalibala in Lasta, as well as the probably even older ones of Tegray, were generally painted directly on the stone itself. Later churches, those with mud walls, similar, though larger, than those of traditional Africanstyle huts, were on the other hand for the most part decorated with paintings on cloth, which, after their completion, were pasted to the walls.

Paintings were seldom signed, for the artist, working, as he believed, for the glory of God, would have regarded any such action as both irreverent and presumptuous.

Medieval Ethiopian artists had to make their own paints, from locall stones and plants, but some of the more fortunate, by the sixteenth century, began to use imported materials.

 Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org

 

By Dr. Richard Pankhurst:-

We saw last week that Ethiopia imported large quanlities of cotton and silk from India, in ancient and medieval times. Now read on:

Jewels were another costly import from India, destined largely for the richest Ethiopian churches. Emperor Galawdewos’s chronicle states that several places of worship destroyed by the soldiers of the Adal conqueror Ahmad Gragn had been thus decorated with “precious Indian stones”.

Pearl-encrusted thrones from India were yet another costly import. They were imported for several monarchs, among them Emperor Dawit (1314-1411) and Emperor Na’od (1404-1508), who are known to have presented them to the churches of Tadbaba Maryam, in Gaynt, and Zemedu Maryam in Lasta, respectively.

Art

Evidence of Ethiopian interest in India is apparent in medieval Ethiopian art, and literature. A painting in the church of Yemrahanna Krestos, in Lasta, depicts an elephant with an Indian-style mahout, or driver, and a howdah, or seat, with two passengers. A similar motif is found in the church of Dabra Salam, near Atsbi in Tegray.Both scenes probably illustrated the travels in India of St Thomas, which were well known to Ethiopian Christians versed in the history of their faith. The holy man, his teaching and martyrdom, are featured in both the Gadla Hawaryat, or Contendings of the Apostles, and the Ethiopian synaxarium.

The “Kebra Nagast”

Medieval Ethiopian awareness of India is similarly apparent in the country’s national epic, the Kebra Nagast. It contains sundry, possibly apocryphal, references to ancient Ethiopian and other relations with the sub-continent at the time of the Queen of Sheba, and later.

The Hapshis of India

The long-standing trade between Ethiopia and India was accompanied by a considerable export of Ethiopian slaves. Such men, women, and children came to be known in India as Hapshis, a corruption of the Arabic word Habash, or Abyssinian. The word was, however, used loosely, apparently for any slaves from Africa, or their descendants. Denison Ross, a British scholar of Indian affairs, less familiar with Africa, observes that Habshi was “a term indicating Abyssinian, but no doubt includes other negroid races from Africa”. Though the word was, as he says, no doubt applied to non-Ethiopians from East Africa, it is, however, highly unlikely that negroid people, i.e. West Africans from the Niger area, were ever taken to India.

Hapshis played a major role in Indian history, for, as Ross declares, “like the Turks who founded dynasties throughout the Muhammedan world these Hapshis usually began as slaves, and seem to have shown the same wonderful capacity, as did the Turks, for rising from slavery to the highest positions”.Several indeed established ruling dynasties, the history of which lies outside the scope of this, and the ensuing, article.

Hapshis are known to have arrived in India as early as the thirteenth century. The first Hapshi of whom we have record was a slave called Jamal ad-Din Yaqut, who is reported to have won the favour of Queen Radiyya (1236-1240), in the kingdom of Delhi.

Hapshis subsequently arrived in many parts of the sub-continent. The largest concentrations were, as to be expected, in the areas with which there was the most considerable trade with the Ethiopian region, i.e. in the north-west, especially Gujarat and the Gulf of Cambay. Hapshis were also established to the east of the sub-continent, in Bengal which was also engaged in extensive Red Sea trade. The local ruler, Sultan Rukn ad-Din (1459-1474), was reported to have no less than 8,000 Hapshi slaves, some of whom rose to high positions.The Deccan, on the west coast of India facing Africa, likewise had a sizable Hapshi population, who were first reported in the area at the time of Bahmani Sultan Firuz (1397-1422). He employed some of them as his personal assistants, and others in hisharem.

Alvares, He Said

The importance of the Ethiopian slave export trade, which constitutes the background to Hapshi history, was duly recognised by Alvares. He noted, of the 1520s, that Ethiopian slaves from Damot in particular were “much esteemed by the Moors”, i.e. Muslims, and that “all the country of Arabia, Persia, India, Egypt, and Greece” was “full of slaves from this country”. Such slaves, he says, “made very good Moors [i.e. Muslims] and great warriors”.

Ethio-Indian Contacts of the 16th and 17th Centuries

Ethiopian-Indian contacts, which dated back, as we have seen, to ancient times, were enhanced, in the late fifteenth century, by the coming to the sub-continent, and to Red Sea waters, of the Portuguese. The latter were perceived by Ethiopian rulers as fellow Christians, and potential allies, from whom military assistance could be obtained. Ethio-Portuguese contacts took place thereafter almost entirely by way of India, the sub-continent’s western coast becoming to all intents and purposes a stop-over on the route between Ethiopia and Europe. The first Portuguese traveller to Ethiopia, Pero da Covilha, who arrived there during the reign of Emperor Eskender (1478-1494), and the subsequent Portuguese diplomatic mission described by Alvares, likewise travelled by way of India.

Mathew, the Armenian, and Empress Eleni

Ethiopians and others making their way to Europe in this period also usually travelled via India. Mathew, the Armenian merchant despatched by Empress Elni to seek Portuguese assistance in view of impending Adal/Muslim pressure, thus went to Goa, whence he sailed to Portugal.

Ethiopian Travellers to India

The first Ethiopian of whom we have record to undertake the trans-continental journey to India and Europe was Brother Anthony of Lalibala, who later proceeded to Venice, where he was interviewed by the Italian scholar Alessandro Zorzi in 1523.

Only a few years later Emperor Lebna Dengel despatched six young Ethiopians to study in India. Four of them apparently arrived in Goa, “two to be taught to be painters, and two others to be trumpeters”. Whether they in fact ever returned to their country or not is unrecorded.

Christavao da Gama

A generation or so later, at the height of Ahmad ibn Ibrahim’s invasion of the Christian highlands, a Portuguese military force, led by Christovao da Gama, intervened, in 1541, on the Emperor’s behalf. It was reportedly accompanied by “over seventy persons trained in all trades, namely cross-bow makers, blacksmiths, carpenters, masons, shoemakers, and other handicraftsmen”. Their impact, if any, on sixteenth century Ethiopian technology has still to be analysed.

Subsequent contacts across the Indian Ocean led, during the reign of the Mogul Emperor Akbar (1556-1605), to the arrival in India of what his chronicle described as a “sea elephant”, i.e. an elephant from overseas. It came to him from the ruler of Gujarat, which, as we have seen, was one of the areas of India in closest relation with Ethiopia.This leads us to suppose that the animal was probably of Ethiopian, or at least East African, origin.

The Jesuits

The growth of Jesuit influence during the reign of Emperor Susneyos (1607-1632), and his adoption of the Roman Catholic faith, witnessed a rapid expansion in Ethiopian contacts with Portuguese India. The monarch was reportedly much interested in the sub-continent, about which he asked the Jesuit missionary Pero Pais numerous questions. Susneyos likewise took an apparently even greater interest than previous Ethiopian rulers in Ethiopian rulers in Indian imports. He is thus described, by the Jesuit Manoel de Almeida, as wearing “a white Indian bofeta”, and elegant Indian slippers, one pair of which was given to him by the Jesuit Manoel Barradas, who presented similar footwear also to the Emperor’s son Fasiladas, and brother, Ras Se’ela Krestos. Susneyos likewise had a bed, or couch, decorated with “coverlets and blankets” from Diu, Cambay, and Bengal, and a silk umbrella, which also came to him from India.

A Crucifix and Chain

Susneyos also had a crucifix and chain, made by an Indian goldsmith, which reportedly filled him with joy, and sent for “seed pearls from India” which he subsequently wore in his crown. The country was apparently recognised as a source of jewels, as suggested by Hiob Ludolf’s Ge‘ez lexicon of 1681 which contains a reference to an a’enaqwe hendake, or Indian jewel.

Other acquisitions from the sub-continent reported at this time included a copper or bronze bell, which was hung at the Emperor’s great church at Gorgora, by Lake Tana,papaya trees, which, according to Pero Pais, “yielded very good fruit”, and Indian figs, which were likewise said to be “very good’.

Highly Prized Animals: elephants, zebras, and a parrot

Several highly prized animals also travelled between Ethiopia and India in this period. The voyage of “a small elephant from Abyssinia” is reported in the Memoirs of the Mogul emperor Jahanger. They recall that the beast, was “brought by sea in a ship”, in 1616. Its ears were reportedly larger than those of Indian elephants, and its trunk and tail longer.

At least one Ethiopian zebra was also taken to India. Susneyos is reported to have sent it as a present to the Basha of the Red Sea port of Suakin, whence “a Moor from India”, purchased it for two thousand sequins to take to Mogul Emperor. This, or another such animal, is described by Jahanger himself. He recalls that it arrived at his court, in 1621, and, though an ass, was “exceedingly strange in appearance, exactingly like a lion” – by which he probably meant a tiger; and had an “exceedingly fine line” round its eyes. The creature seemed so strange that some people thought that it had been coloured by hand, but the monarch rejected this view, stating that it was in fact “the painter of fate”, who had “left it on the page of the world”. The animal was so remarkable, and highly regarded at the Indian court, that at least two paintings of it were drawn by the Mogul artist Ustad Mansur.

The reign of Susneyos witnessed the arrival at the Ethiopian court of a parrot. It was called dura, apparently a corruption of duri, the Gujarati name for this type of bird. The Ethiopian royal chronicle states that it came from Hend, i.e. India, spoke “hend”, presumably Hindustani, or some other language of India, and several other tongues, but was, unfortunately, subsequently eaten by a cat. God bless its soul!

 Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org

 

By Dr. Richard Pankhurst:-

Contacts between the lands which became to be known as Ethiopia and India date back to the dawn of history. The two countries, though geographically remote from one another, had largely complimentary economies. Ethiopia was a source of gold, ivory and slaves, all three of them in great demand in India. India by contrast produced cotton and silk, pepper and other spices, all in great demand in Ethiopia, as well as some manufactured articles consumed by the elite.

Trade Winds

Communications between the two countries, or regions, were facilitated by the Trade Winds. These blew, in the summer months, from north to south in the Red

Sea, and then, across the Indian Ocean, from south-west to north-east. Winds, in the winter months, blew in the opposite direction. Such winds were important throughout the age of sailing boats, for they thrust vessels from the Ethiopian coast to that of India in the summer, and brought them back in the winter.

Commerce between Ethiopia and India also owed much to the fact that the seas between them formed part of a major international trade route, which linked the Mediterranean – and Roman – world with that of the East, including China.

Ancient Times

Indian contacts with the Red Sea coast of Africa are poorly documented for very early times, but probably date back long before the Christian era. In the first century AD the record, however, gains clarity. The Periplus of the Erythraean Sea, a Graeco-Egyptian trade manual, states that Indian trade with the Red Sea area was largely based on Ariak, i.e. north-western India, as well as the Gulf of Cambay, Barugaza, or modern Broach, and, to a lesser extent, Limurak, or country of the Tamils.

Indian commerce, according to the Periplus, extended to many localities situated to the west of the sub-continent. At the mouth of the Red Sea the island of Sokotra, then known as Dioskouridou, was thus frequented by some Indian traders. This island, most of whose inhabitants spoke a tongue akin to Ethiopia’s classical language Ge‘ez, traded, the Periplus states, with both Limurak and Barugaza, and was permanently settled by a number of Indians.

Further west, on the Horn of African coast, the great port of Malao, today’s Berbera, likewise apparently dealt in a large quantity of cloth, almost certainly imported from India.

Adulis

Adule, or Adulis, the main port of the Aksumite empire, which was situated further west again, within the confines of the Red Sea, also traded extensively with India. The Periplus, discussing this ancient Ethiopian commerce, explains that “from the inner parts of Ariak” were imported:

Indian iron and steel.

The broader Indian cloth called monakh

Cloth called sagmatognai.

Belts

Garments called gaunakai

Mallow cloth

A little muslin

Coloured lac”

Arhaeological Evidence

The importance of such trade is confirmed by archaeological evidence. Aksumite coins have been discovered, over the years, in several parts of south-west India, while a hoard of Indian Kushana money was found in the vicinity of the northern Ethiopian monastery of Dabra Damo.

The Coming of Christianity, and Changing Alphabets

On-going contacts across the Indian Ocean had an incidental, but crucially important, consequence in the religious and cultural field. Frumentius, a Christian youth from Syria bound for India, was shipwrecked off the Ethiopian coast, around 330AD, and was subsequently instrumental in converting the Aksumite realm to Christianity.

The period immediately following the coming of Christianity witnessed interesting cultural developments, which took place at roughly the same time on both sides of the Indian Ocean. The writing of the Ethiopian language, Ge‘ez, and of the Indian, Brahmi and Kharoshi, evolved in an almost identical manner, by the addition of small signs, or other modifications, to the basic consonantal letters, to express vowel sounds. The Ethiopian and Indian alphabets were thus both transformed into syllabaries. How these changes took place, and whether they were related to each other – as one may suspect, cannot, however, be established.

Contacts across the Indian Ocean, which were clearly important throughout this entire period, found expression, a century or so later, in the visit to India of a Bishop of Adulis, by name Moses. He travelled to the sub-continent in the company of a Coptic bishop from Egypt, to examine Brahmin philosophy.

Kosmos Indikopleustes

Continued commerce between Ethiopia and India was later documented, in the early sixth century, by an Egyptian trader-cum-monk, Kosmos Indikopleustes. He records that the Horn of Africa, which he calls Barbaria, produced frankincense, as well as “many other articles of merchandise”, which were exported to India. He adds that Taprobane, i.e. Ceylon, was visited by merchants from Adulis.

Further evidence of the significance of Aksumite trading with India is embodied in a Greek text, written by another Egyptian writer of the time. It states that the early sixth century Aksumite emperor Kaleb, when carrying out an expedition to South Arabia, in retaliation for the massacre of Christians at Nagran, made use of a number of vessels from India, as well as from several other countries.

Shared Culture

Such ancient contacts across the Indian Ocean seem to have found material expression in certain elements of a shared culture. These include the cultivation, on either side of the ocean, of both cotton and sugar; the presence in the two regions of zebu, or humped, cattle; the existence of “African” lions in the Gujarat area of north-west India; the erection of fairly similar megalithic stones, in for example Ethiopian Gurageland and the Indian Naga hills; the use, by weavers, of almost identical looms in both countries; similar dress (the Ethiopian shamma and the Indian sari); and highly spiced food (Ethiopian barbar and Indian curry).

Medieval Times

Trade between the Ethiopian region and India in the medieval period is relatively well documented. The Portuguese traveller, Tome Pires, writing of Cambay in the early sixteenth century, tells of the arrival there of “Abyssinians”, as well as Arabs, and describes the area’s trade with the main Gulf of Aden ports of Africa: Zayla and Berbera. His Bolognese contemporary, Ludovico di Varthema, likewise reports that Calicut was visited by merchants from Ethiopia, besides others from Arabia, Persia, Syria and Turkey.

Aden

Much of this trade centred at this time on the notable Arab commercial city of Aden. Varthema described it as “the great rendez-vous” for “all ships” coming from “India Major and Minor,” Ethiopia and Persia. The Venetian merchant Andrea Corsali likewise called Aden “the principal port of Arabia and Ethiopia”,while Barbosa reported that “many ships” arrived there from both Zayla and Berbera. Aden’s importance was also recognised by Brother Thomas, an Ethiopian visitor to Venice, who spoke of it as “the emporium of India” and “the gateway for all the spice and cloth and other things” brought by land to the then temporary Ethiopian capital, Barara. (Don’t, dear reader, ask where this was!)

Some Indian trade with Africa seem also to have passed by way of the Maldive islands, These were described by the fourteenth century Arab writer Dimashki as a stopping place for ships going to “Abyssinia”, besides Hormuz, Yaman, Mogadishu, and Zanj.

Massawa, Zayla, and Berbera

The three principal ports handling Ethiopian and Horn of African imports from India were then, as for centuries to come, Massawa, on the Red Sea, and Zayla and Berbera, as we have seen, on the Gulf of Aden coast.

Massawa, by this time already the main port of the Ethiopian highlands, was a place of sizable Indian trade, an was mentioned by the Portuguese, who report seeing “two Gujarat ships” there in 1520. Articles from India imported through the port were on sale, according to the Portuguese traveller Francisco Alvares, at the great market of Manadeley, in southern Tegray, where he saw “merchants of all nations”, among them “Moors [i.e. Muslims] of India”.

Zayla, according to Varthema, was likewise a place of “immense traffic”, especially in gold and ivory, which were exported to India, as well as to Persia, Arabia and Egypt. Indian goods imported through the port were taken, by camel caravan, to the “great mercantile city” of Gendebelu, where the Ethiopian monk Brother Antonio states that commodities were “brought from the whole of India”.

Berbera was visited, according to the Portuguese, Duarte Barbosa, by “many ships”, which carried “much merchandise” from Aden and Cambay, and returned with large quantities of African gold and ivory. Indian articles imported at the port were transported inland by camel, Corsali notes, to Ethiopia, which he termed “the country of churches”. The importance of this trade route was confirmed by Brother Thomas, who states that merchandise taken from Berbera to Shawa came from “Aden, Persia, Combaia [i.e. Cambay], and India”.

Some imports from India sometimes also reached the Ethiopian highlands by way of the Indian Ocean coast. Brother Thomas claims that “much merchandise” was brought there on ships of Cambay, and were later carried by caravan to Barara.

Penetrating the Ethiopian Interior

Indian imports, through one port or another, penetrated far into the Ethiopian interior. The chronicle of Emperor Zar’a Ya‘qob (1434-1468) tells of that monarch presenting silken vestments to the great monastery of Dabra Libanos, while Tome Pires observed that “the most prized things” in Abyssinia included coarse cloth from Cambay, as well as silks, also from India.

Emperor Galawdwos (1540-1559) later declared that the people of Damot, in the far south-west of the country, gave gold “in exchange for inferior and coarse Indian cloth”. Textiles then, as in Aksumite times, in fact constituted Ethiopia’s principal on-going import from India.

Indian silks throughout Ethiopia were highly regarded by all who could afford them, Emperor Lebn Dengel (1508-1540) for example was described, by Alvares, as “dressed in a rich mantle of (gold) brocade, and silk shirts of wide sleeves”. His consort, Queen Sabla Wangel, according to the Portuguese warrior Miguel de Castanhoso, was “all covered to the ground with silk, with a large flowing cloak… she was clothed in a very thin white Indian cloth”.The Abun, or head of the church, was likewise often dressed, Alvares says, in “a white cotton robe of fine thin stuff”, called casha, in India, “whence it came”.

 Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org

By Dr. Richard Pankhurst:-

Launching the EMML Project

Almost thirty years ago, in what some people like to call the Good Old Days, Dr Walter Harrelson, Dean of the Divinity School of Vanderbilt University, Tennessee, visited Ethiopia in search of manuscripts of Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. While in Addis Ababa, he met His Holiness Abuna Theophilus, the then Acting Patriarch of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, who suggested to his American visitor that funds might be sought to microfilm all manuscripts in Ethiopia, thus enabling scholars with varied interests to have access to documentation.

To this end, Abuna Theophilus appointed a committee, chaired by Dr Harrelson, to explore the possibilities of microfilming the manuscripts, and of securing the funds to do so. The First Joint Consultation Meeting for Microfilming Ethiopian Church Manuscripts was accordingly held in Addis Ababa, on April 22-23 1971.

It was in this way, and readers may note that I have been quoting directly from an Ethiopian Manuscript Microfilm Library brochure, that the justly renowned EMML project was launched.

Highly Regarded

The project was so highly regarded that it received initial financial support from the American Council of Learned Societies and the National Endowment for the Humanities, and by 30 June 1977 had received American financial support, to a the tune of US$ 170,000.

Microfilming was, as far as possible systematic, and carried out church (or other institution), by church, and the filming of manuscripts was as far as possible complete. Only the most common items, such as copies of Dawit, i.e. the Psalms of David, were excluded from filming.

The project published its first detailed catalogue, of the first 300 Ethiopian manuscripts, in 1975; and its last catalogue to date, Volume X, with 999 entries – edited by Dr Getatchew Haile – six years ago, in 1993.

These catalogues, mainly, though not exclusively the work of Dr Getatchew, now cover no less than five thousand items, and are works of meticulous scholarship, on any showing.

There is in addition a back-log of many uncatalogued manuscript (how many we do not know), as well as, we may suppose, a number of already catalogued manuscripts awaiting publication.

Works Microfilmed

The EMML project, which won the admiration of virtually all scholars in the field (Leslau, Ullendorff, Strelcyn, Hammerchmidt, Chojnacki, Tubiana, et al.) and is widely quoted in works of scholarship, was based on a partnership between three institutions: the Ethiopian Ministry of Culture, the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, and St John’s Abbey and University in Collegeville, Minnesota.

Cataloguing of manuscripts by the EMML revealed that the majority of Ethiopia’s manuscripts consisted, as one would expect, of Bibles, Biblical Commentaries, Service books, Lives of Saints, and other religious works essential for the understanding of Ethiopian religion, religious institutions, and history; but also covered many other matters, including philosophy, secular and church history (such as Ethiopian royal chronicles), law, mathematics, medicine, and other subjects.

The Lives of Ethiopian Saints, though often full of unbelievable miracles, are, it should be emphasised, also full of historical information of crucial importance for the study of Ethiopian history. Many such works contain moreover unavailable data on such varied subjects as traditional church education, famines and epidemics.

Many Ethiopian manuscripts also contain “marginalia”, or otherwise unwritten pages at the beginning, end, or elsewhere in the volume, which have been used, sometimes over a period of centuries, to enter a wide variety of historically important data. This may cover such questions as royal land grants, land purchases and sales by both men and women, using gold, Maria Theresa dollars, or “primitive money”; marriage agreements and contracts; tax records (see for example the volume I edited, with Girma-Sellassie Asfaw, on the tax records of Emperor Tewodros); lists of books, usually specified by name; church paraphernalia and other property, including guns, in various churches and monasteries, etc., etc. – a rich store in effect of historical material.

Illustrations

Not a few manuscripts also contain illustrations, likewise of immense historical and cultural importance. Invaluable for the history of Ethiopian art, they also provide unique documentation on almost all aspects of Ethiopia’s historic past. They depict such subjects as agriculture and handicrafts; wood-cutting, and house-building; clothing and dress, both male and female; crowns, and other royal decorations; crosses, and church paraphernalia; cattle-slaughtering, preparation and serving of food and drink; banquets, complete with dining tables, waiters, and slaves; hair-styles and decorations; jewellery and tattooing; horse and mule decorations; local weapons, such as spears and shields, and imported ones, like rifles; furniture and household objects, including masob, agagil, and gambo; sports and games, among them guks and gabata; diseases and debilities, among them leprosy and other skin diseases, and loss of limbs; and wild and domestic animals. Not a few paintings consist portraits, albeit often highly stylized, of Ethiopian personalities of the past both religious and lay, while others depict class relations, with rulers, servants, and slaves. Such material, you will appreciate, dear reader, is of crucial importance to the Ethiopian political, military, medical and social historian, no less than to the historian of art.

The EMML project microfilmed only in black-and-white, though it did take some colour photographs of paintings: for the future the possibility of working in colour, with digital cameras, needs serious consideration.

Archival Material

The EMML did not confine itself only (as some may think) to manuscripts on parchment, but also microfilmed a large amount of archival material, for the most part on paper.

This is not the place to provide a catalogue of EMML microfilms (spare us that!), but take for example a few of the items in Volume IX: It contains biographical material on Ethiopia’s first foreign-educated physician-cum diplomat, Hakim Warqnah, known abroad as Dr Martin; papers on many subjects written by the assiduous, but unassuming Ethiopian scholar, Blatta Mars’e Hazen; a life of the heroic, yet little-studied, Ethiopian Patriot, Tashoma Shangut; entirely unpublished Ethiopian documents belonging to Ethiopia’s pre-war Minister of Public Works, Fitawrari Taffesa Habta Mikael; an Ethiopian Government report on the movement of Somali pastoralists; reports (from the Ethiopian as well as the British side) on the Anglo-Ethiopian Boundary Commission defining the frontier between Ethiopia and British Somaliland in the early 1930s; documents on the Wal Wal incident of December 1934, which Mussolini was to use shortly afterwards as a pretext for the Fascist invasion of Ethiopia; and much much more!

EMML microfilming was also carried out at the Institute of Ethiopian Studies Library, where manuscripts and archival material was filmed – a valuable insurance against possible destruction by fire at that institution.

Security

Microfilming, it should be emphasised, also has a significant security aspect. Once items are microfilmed they can much more easily identified if stolen; and EMML films, if need-be, can be made available to the Ethiopian police, or Interpol.

Where to See Them

EMML, as a co-operative project conceived with vision made copies of its microfilms widely available to the scholarly community, both in Ethiopia and abroad. Microfilm copies can be viewed, in Addis Ababa, at both the Ministry of Culture and the Institute of Ethiopian Studies, and, in the United States, at St John’s University, at Collegeville, Minnesota. And if, dear reader, you are not so privileged as to live in either of these towns, you can consult the published EMML catalogues, which are to be found in libraries in the main centres of learning, and easily order microfilm copies from Collegeville, for a modest fee.

But What Now?

Praise for EMML brings us to the sad point that the project, for lack of funds, or vision, has in recent years come to an end. Though microfilming of manuscripts was carried on fairly exhaustively for almost two decades in much of the country, manuscripts in many other areas, including Tegray, let alone Eritrea, have still not been touched by the project at all.

And yet the need for the systematic recording of Ethiopiamn manuscripts is as great, nay, far greater, tham ever before!

The question with which we are now confronted is: will Ethiopia in the twenty-first Century be able to live up to the achievements, and expectations, of the Twentieth?

 Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org

 

by Dr Richard Pankhurst:-

Ethiopia posseses, as we have more than once urged in these pages, a vast historical heritage, which, we would insist, has up to now been insufficiently studied, and exploited.

The Gadl

This week we turn our attention to one particular Ethiopian historical source: the Gadl, or Saint’s Life.

Ethiopia, over the centuries, had numerous holy men (and also a few women!), who lived what were considered holy lives, founded monasteries, and were remembered with affection, devotion and/or admiration by their disciples and followers.

Such pious individuals in many cases became the subject of the Lives with which we are concerned today. These literary works must be recognised, together with the Aksumite inscriptions and the Ethiopian Royal Chronicles, as one of the three most important indigenous written sources of historical, or, if you like, semi-historical documentation.

What Are They?

Lives of Saints, such as we are discussing, were invariably written on parchment in the classical Ethiopian language, Ge‘ez. Some were composed immediately after the lifetime of the “saint” in question; others long afterwards, by one of his, or her, disciples, or perhaps by a group of such disciples.

Some of these Lives of Saints are briefly summarised in the Ethiopian Synaxarium, or Senksar, an English translation of which was published in 1928, by Sir Ernest Wallis Budge, with the title The Book of the Saints of the Ethiopian Church.

Translations of individual Lives of Saints, from the original Ge‘ez, have been made in Amharic, as well as a number of European languages: Latin, Italian, French, Portuguese, German, English, Polish, Russian, etc.

A good listing of the principal known Ethiopian Saints, with valuable bibliographical detail was published by our old friend Dr Kinefe-Rigb Zelleke, in the Journal of Ethiopian Studies, in 1975.

Not to be Accepted in Totality

The Ethiopian Lives of Saints, like those of other countries, should not be considered as entirely historical documents, to be accepted uncritically, in their totality, and without reserve. They are, however, historical documents, which can contribute significantly to our knowledge of the past, and to ignore them (as so many people are doing these days!) is to render Ethiopian history far the poorer.

An Historical Framework – and a “Clue”

The Lives of Saints, as was noted by Dr G.W.B. Huntingford, a British writer on the subject twenty years ago, contain essentially two types of material: firstly, an historical framework; and, secondly, a “clue” to the way of life and religious interpretations of the Ethiopian people of the time in which these works were written.

;”As history”, Huntingford declared, “we may accept the names of people, the places mentioned, and the acts performed by the saints in their fight against paganism, together with the general picture presented by these Lives of a country where scattered churches with their communities of Christians were set among a population that was mainly pagan”.

Huntingford, you will note, dear reader, writes with his own bias against the “pagans”, who nowadays would be termed “animists”, or even “adherent of traditional religions”. The term used is not, however, so important, for the Lives of Saints, though themselves also biased against “pagans”, may be regarded as constituting an historical source about the latter, no less than about the “saints”, who sought to convert them to Christianity.

But to return to good old Huntingford, he continues:

“The religious aspect – the multitude of miracles, the visions, and other manifestations of extreme piety may be accepted to a point with allowance for exaggeration… There can be no doubt, however, that these saints did lead lives of piety, purity, and austerity. Equally there can be little doubt that their biographers did exaggerate in order to emphasize their piety. On the other hand, Alvares [the renowned early sixteenth century Portuguese traveller to Ethiopia] actually met holy men who lived the same sort of lives as the earlier saints”.

But enough of Huntingford! He has made his point!

The Lives of Saints, as he says above, are valuable in the following five ways.

Huntingford’s Five Points

(1) They provide, as he says, an historical framework: that is to say they usually place the story in its historical context, in many cases by indicating the Ethiopian reign, or reigns, during which the “saint” lived, and what were the principal events of his time, political, religious, or economic.

The works in question may thus throw light on such specific questions as appointments of governors and other officials, the outbreak of wars and other conflicts, theological disputations, famines, epidemics, etc.

(2) Lives of Saints, as he says, provide “a clue” (at least!) to the people’s lives, and religious aspirations: that is to say they reflect the attitudes of Ethiopians of the time, and those of the authors who wrote the works in question.

Such works thus throw light on many of the problems with which people in the past were confronted, and how they reacted towards them, as well as on more specific questions, such as agriculture, handicrafts and trade, not to mention attitudes to as gluttony, sloth, asceticism, self-torture, heroism, scholarship, water-divining, etc.

(3) Lives of Saints, as he says, provide biographical information on the saints with whose lives the works are concerned, and in many cases a number of other figures: that is to say these writings contribute to a widening knowledge of Ethiopian personalities of the past.

Such works often tell us something about people’s birth, marriage and death customs, attitudes to children and the aged, gender questions, education, patterns of work, religious and other beliefs, methods of giving names, attitudes to life, etc.

(4) Lives of Saints, as he says, provide data on historical place-names: that is to say they assist our understanding of Ethiopian historical geography.

Such works may thus explain the location of capitals and other towns, important churches, monasteries and other places of worship, markets and trade routes, battle sites, migratory directions of various ethnic groups, etc.

(5) Lives of Saints, as he says, have something to say about the conflict between Ethiopian Christianity and what he chooses to term “paganism”: that is to say they give us a graphic picture of the religious situation of the time.

Such works thus throw light on the religious situation of the past, the role of the Abun, or metropolitan, and other church functionaries, the role of priests, dabtaras, monks, nuns, hemits, etc., relations between Church and State, the character and topography of various cults, Christian or otherwise, pilgrimage sites, “devil worship”, methods and formulas of exorcism, etc.

The above analysis, based exclusively on Huntingford’s analysis, would seem sufficient to demonstrate the value of Lives of Saints in the overall picture of Ethiopian historical studies.

What Should Be Done, and What is Not Being Done

Given the evident importance of the works under discussion, it would appear evident that steps should urgently be taken:

(i) to publish all known Lives of Saints, in annotated editions, footnoting all references to names of individuals, places, institutions, etc.

(ii) to translate such works into one or more national, and international, language.

(iii) to search out, preserve, microfilm, and publish all works not yet identified.

The concerned government departments, scholarly, pseudo-scholarly, and church institutions, should commit themselves to such a programme, which, if carried out with a little determination and imagination, would undoubtedly open new vistas in many areas of Ethiopian studies.

Why not an Ethiopian National (or International?, or Church?, or Inter-Church?) Commission for the ImmediatePublication of Gadl?

Why not, oh Ambassadors, dispense a little bilateral aid for this important work? Why not, Institute Directors, take a little interest in this area of the country’s cultural dimension?

Old retired Ge‘ez teachers, what are you doing to advance Ethiopian learning, in your spare time?

What is the Theological College doing to make an increased body of historic-religious material available for students?

Why don’t rich religious communities at present pouring out their wealth in building new mega-churches ear-mark a fraction of the expenditure on gadl-publication?

To do virtually nothing on the matter, as at present, is a good recipe, for losing, and stultifying, one’s history.

  Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org

By Dr. Richard Pankhurst:-

The Art of Gabre Kristos Desta: an Important Offer that Should be Accepted!

Gabre Kristos Desta, who studied in Germany, was one post-World War II Ethiopia’s best known artists. He was also a prominent teacher at Ethiopia’s School of Fine Arts.

When he died, in Oklahoma, in the United States in 1981, it was his wish that those of his paintings which were still in his possession should be returned to his beloved Ethiopia. That this was his ardent wish I know from my somewhat earlier correspondence with him when, after leaving Ethiopia, he lived in Germany.

Some Forty Paintings

Some forty of his paintings, including several of his finest works, are currently in

Munich, Germany. They are under the legal custody of Lij Dr. Asfawossen Asserate, who is most anxious to fulfill the artist’s dying wish that the paintings should be repatriated. He has, however, made one, it would appear, very reasonable condition. This is that the paintings, on returning to Ethiopia, should be adequately preserved, and that at least a representative selection should be put on permanent display. Gabre Kristos, after all, wanted his paintings to be seen by his compatriots, not to have them stored away to gather dust, or to be eaten by mice! Where the paintings should be placed, how they should be kept, and who should be responsible for them, are therefore more than mere academic questions.

The paintings of Gabre Kristos, now in Germany awaiting repatriation represent, it should be emphasised, a significant part of Ethiopia’s cultural heritage. Even if considered only in purely financial terms, the proposed gift is of no small monetary value, and is worth much more indeed than most Ethiopian institutions could afford to purchase.

Enter the Ethiopia Heritage Trust?

Lij Dr. Asfawossen Asserate has offered this important collection to the Ethiopia Heritage Trust, in Addis Ababa, on the sole condition that it agrees to take official possession, and to put a representative part of it on permanent display. This is of course precisely what lovers of Ethiopian art want!

The Heritage Trust, as is well known, has for several years been working to acquire the former Municipality Building, near Giyorgis, i.e. St George’s Cathedral, so as to preserve it for posterity.

Should the acquisition of this substantial property be achieved in the near future, as we all hope, it could well provide ideal premises for an Art Gallery, in which the works of Gabre Kristos, and, no doubt, many other artists, could be displayed.

Girma Belachew Yimer

One such artist is Girma Belachew Yimer, who died recently in Japan. His last wish was also that some of his most representative paintings should return, and be on permanent display, for his compatriots in his native land. This is the wish too of his Japanese widow, Mrs Kyoko Belachew.

A Museum of Modern Ethiopian Art?

We ourselves have on several occasions urged, in these pages and elsewhere, the urgent need for the establishment of a Museum of Modern Ethiopian Art. We feel that the paintings of the two above-mentioned artists could well form the nucleus of such a museum, as well as a catalyst for its establishment.

Gabre Kristos, I feel sure, would have liked to see his paintings on display in a house, such as the former Municipality building, saved for posterity, and for the preservation of Ethiopia’s cultural heritage.

We can only hope that the authorities concerned will have the imagination, and wisdom, to jump at this opportunity to save Gabre Kristos Desta’s paintings for Ethiopia, and thus lay the foundation for a Museum of Modern Ethiopian art!

 Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org

 

By Dr. Richard Pankhurst:-

Addis Ababa has many missing statues!

Such is our theme for our essay today.

Tewodros

Look, to start with, at Addis Ababa’s Tewodros Square. You drive up Churchill Road, past the Post Office, and the French school, both of them on the right; and you come to Tewodros “square”, or, if you like “circle”, and what do you see? Nothing!

The plan, never implemented, was to erect a statue there in memory of Emperor Tewodros II. A first drawing for the statue was produced by Ethiopian artist Ato Ale Felege Selam, and is still extant, in private posseesion. This drawing can be brought out whenever the Municipal authorities realise the need to beutify, and glorify, the capital.

Tewodros, who gave his life for Ethiopia, as he conceived it, surely deserves this long-awaited statue.

I am currently re-reading, for the ninth, time, Henry Dufton’s Narratuive of a Journey through Abyssinia (London, 1867), and what do I read?

Dufton writes (in 1867, mark you!) that was “the first and only patriot Abyssinia ever saw, as well as the last”.

A sweeping, and contentious, statement, no doubt, but one which points to the fact that Tewodros, on grounds of patriotism, surely qualifies for the statue he has so long been denied.

Tewodros Square without a Tewodros Statue is like enjerra without wot.

And, thinking in this essay of Tewodros and statues, one may note the paradoxical fact that in England there is a statue of Tewodros’s orphaned son Alamayehu in fact on the Isle of Wight), but that no such statue is to be found in Ethiopia.

It is, we may add, likewise paradoxical that there is a statue of Emperor Haile Sellassie in London (in Cannizaro Park), but not in Addis Ababa.

Menilek

You all, dear readers, know the story of Addis Ababa’s Equestrian Statue of Emperor Menilek, during the Italian Fascist occupation: how Mussolini, immediately after the Fascist occupation of the city, demanded the statue’s dismantlement; how the Fascist Viceroy, Graziani, opposed this order; how Lessona, the Fascist Minister of the Colonies, went with the Fascist Minister of Public Works in the night to pull the statue down; and how many Addis Ababa citizens woke up in the morning, sadly crying “Menilek is no more!”

Well, Menilek of course is now not “no more!”. He rides again, on horseback, beside Giyorgis, St George’s Cathedral. This statue is one of the Ethiopian capital’s remarkably few statues. Their number, as our Municipal authorities must know, compares very unfavourably with those in other capitals: think for example of the many fine statues in Paris, Rome, Moscow, etc., etc,

Yohannes

With the erection of the Tewodros statue, here proposed, and the existence of the above-mentioned Menilek statue, the Municipality should be thinking of a statue to Emperor Yohannes IV. He it was who preserved Ethiopia’s independence throughought the 1870s and 1880s, and who fought off invasion from no less than three hostile, and invading, powers: the Egyptians, Dervishes, and Italians.

And, after all, he gave his life for Ethiopia at the battle of Metemma,!

Ras Alula

Talking of Ethiopian patriots (and remembering Henry Dufton’s above quoted words) we cannot forget Ras Alula Abba Negga, his role in the battle of Dogali, in 1887, and in that of Adwa, in 1896.

And we may recall that, at the time of the Dogali Centenary Confernece, over ten years ago, the group of distinguished scholars, from all over the world, passed a resolution urging the erection of a Ras Alula statue.

Gaki Sheroko

Thus far this article, because it started with the missing statue in Tewodros Square, has concentrated on northern Ethiopia, with Tewodros, Yohannes, and Menilek. But we should also be thinking of personalities from the southern parts of the country. There should indeed be statues relating to all parts of Ethiopia, north, south, west, and east.

We need a statue, for example, to the noble Gaki Sheroko, the last Tati, of King, of Kafa, who Menilek imprisoned at Ankobar. Look at this Kafa leader’s photograph in Ethiopia Photographed, the book of photographs I published with Denis Gerard, on page 56, or in Professor Bahru Zewde’s Modern History of Ethiopia, and see what a fine statue such a photograph could inspire!

Tona

And Tona, of Walayta! There was a man, indeed, who deserves a statue. You have a picture of him also, in Ethiopia Engraved, from which a statue, very true to life, could be designed.

Abba Jifar

Abba Jifar II, of what we now call Jimma, was likewise a notable figure in Ethiopian history, and a leader for whom there are good photographs that could be used by a sculptor designing a statue.

Abdulahi of Harar

Abdulahi of Harar was likewise photographed, and could similarly be the subject of a fine statue.

The above short list of nineteenth century rulers is of course by no means complete. It is presented here merely to teeze readers, and to provoke them into thinking of other candidates for statues. And, though I have mentioned only Ethiopian leaders for whom photographic likenesses are available, there are many other personalities, who lived, ruled and died, before the advent of photographs, but nevertheless deserve statues.

Abuna Petros, and the Patriots

Let us now drive, so to speak, to the west of Addis Ababa, to the Abuna Petros statue. This statue was erected to comemorate the Ethiopian bishop, who was with the Ethiopian Patriots, during the Italian occupation, and was later murdered by the Italian Fascists, after the briefest of staged trials: on this see Tsegaye Gabre-Medhen’s remarkable play Tewodros at the Hour.

The statue is of course well deserved, but why not have it supplemented, and supported, by statues of the Patriot leaders themselves? Men and women such as Ababa Aragay, Belay Zalaqa, Wayzaro Shawa Raggad, Geresu Dukie, and others. The Patriots’ Association in Addis Ababa has sufficient archival material to provide as long a list of Patriots as anyone may require.

Ras Makonnen

Flying from Addis Ababa to Dire Dawa, and driving up to Harar, we see the fine statue of Ras Makonnen, designed by HMAL Afewerk Tekle: evidence that it was once possible to erect statues to Ethiopian provincial rulers, and that sculptors should be busily at work in other towns, besides Addis Ababa.

Bahr Dar is alreay setting an example with its statues.

Yared the Deacon, and Onesimus Nesib

A city cannot of course be adorned only with statues of rulers. warriors, and heroes. We need in this essay to raise the issue of statues to Ethiopia’s innumerable figures of cultural importance: artists, authors, poets, philosophers (ask Professor Claude Sumner about the latter!), and others.

We have to think, dear reader, of peronalities such as (and the list is deliberately absurdly incomplete!) Yared the Deacon, and Onesimus Nesib.

Yared, who lived in ancient Aksumite times, was the reputed Father of Ethiopian Music (whether truly so or not has been debated).

Onesimus, who lived in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, has the distinction of translating the Bible into the Afan Oromo language, also known as Oromefa.

Religious Paintings-Cum-Statues

Then there are the religious, or Saintly, figures, who played such an important role in Ethiopian medieval histoty, and are remembered in innumerable Church paintings: Saint Takla Haymanot (he of the wings and the one leg), Abuna Aragawi (he of the serpent kindly taking up to the summit of Dabra Damo), Gabra Manfus Qeddus (he with lions and leopards on either side of him, and birds pecking at his eyes), Samuel of Weldebba (he riding a docile lion), etc., etc.

Do they qualify for statues, or are their artistic representations to be limited only to paintings?

The Star of the Trinity

While on the subject of “missing statues” there is the mystery of the Star of the Trinity, reproduced on this page. It was taken to Italy, during the Fascist occupation, and then disappeared. Where is it ?

And the Mule

And some readers may recall that I have earlier given it as my pet belief that there should also be a statue to the mule so important in Ethiopian history: Remember, in this connection, the words of Hiob Ludolf, the celebrated seventeenth century German scholar of Ethiopian affairs. In his New History of Ethiopia, translated into English in 1682, he says, of Ethiopia’s mules, that no “other creature” could “perform that kindness to Man as they do, over so many craggie Rocks and Mountains, where it is impossible for Waggons, Carts, or Coaches to pass”.

Why not then honour them (or, if you prefer, the donkey, or the camel) with a statue too?

 Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org

Ethiopia is in many ways remarkable in possessing lands of greatly varying altitude, and hence of widely differing climate. Traditionally the areas of differing altitude in which these lands were situated were known as Qolla, or Lowlands, Dega, or Lands of Considerable Elevation, and Wayna Dega, literally “Grape Highlands”, or lands of intermediary elevation.

Temperature, Rainfall and Climate

Temperature and rainfall also varied very greatly. The country thus included cold mountains, in some places at times covered with snow, and torrid lowlands, some of which constituted some of the hottest places on earth. Great differences in rainfall also occurred, and manifested themselves in desert conditions at one extreme, and tropical jungle at the other.

Such differences of elevation, and climate, in rainfall as well as in temperature, were of immense importance. They led to a remarkably wide variety of vegetation of all kinds, including trees, shrubs, and other plants of medicinal value.

Medical Plants

The number, and variety, of such medicinal plants enabled the people of Ethiopia, the inheritors of a long-established civilisation, to develop, over the centuries, a very sophisticated knowledge of herbal medicine. This enabled them to conquer the diseases, epidemic as well as endemic, with which they were afflicted.

A Written Language

Ethiopia was also unusual on the African continent south of the Sahara in possessing a written language: Ge‘ez, which can be traced back to before the Christian era.

Ge‘ez literature, which was written on parchment, was for the most part Biblical, or at least Christian in character. There was, however, also a sizable amount of writing on secular themes, such as the royal chronicles, works on philosophy, computation of calendar information, legal texts, and – what we are concerned with today: medical text-books.

Medical Textbooks, and Their Age

We do not know when the Ethiopians began to record their medical knowledge in writing. Medical texts were not treated with the same reverence as religious works, and were therefore less often housed in church or monastic libraries, where they would have been well preserved. Medical textbooks were instead often kept in the possession of individual practitioners, who used them for their medical purposes, and were not so interested in their conservation.

The earliest Ethiopian medical texts known to us date back to the seventeenth or eighteenth centuries. It may well, however, be the case that such works are copies of much older texts, no longer extant, which were worn out in use, or otherwise destroyed. The works from which they were copied could have been many centuries older, and may have dated perhaps from perhaps the thirteenth or fourteenth centuries, or even earlier.

Their Importance

Ethiopian medical texts are of immense historical importance, not only for the understanding of Ethiopian medical history, but also in that they embody a vast store of medical information. Much of this can be of practical importance for the present day.

Traditional medicine has an advantage over modern medicine imported from abroad in that it is often better understood, and appreciated, by the rural population. Traditional medicine is also substantially cheaper, and, no less important, less of a burden on the country’s balance of foreign exchange.

Supplemented by Foreign Writings

The information recorded in the Ethiopian medical text-books can to some extent be confirmed, as well as supplemented, by the writings of innumerable foreign travellers, who have over the years written many valuable accounts of the country’s medical practices. Such records date back to the writings of the early sixteenth century Portuguese traveller Fransisco Alvares, and also include accounts by many nineteenth and early twentieth century foreign century observers, French, German, Italian, and others. Some of them were trained doctors, surgeons, or other medical observers.

Such foreign literature cannot be ignored: it contains for example accounts of such traditional practices as bleeding and cupping, as well as bone-setting, surgical operations, and the use of thermal water, none of which figure at all in the Ethiopian medical textbooks.

Published Texts

Several of the more important Ethiopian medical text-books have been published abroad during the present century, together with French, Italian, English or other foreign translations, as well as a considerable amount of annotation. Such annotation is of immense medical, and other scholarly, importance, for it often identifies, at least tentatively, the scientific, or Latin botanical names of the plants mentioned in the texts.

Such published texts, translations and annotations are in fact so important that it is impossible to do any serious research in the investigation of traditional Ethiopian medicine, or on traditional Ethiopian plants, without familiarising oneself with such literature: to mention but two examples Marcel Griaule’s Le livre de recettes d’un dabtara abyssin (Paris, 1930), and our old friend Stefan Strelcyn’s two volume Medecine et plantes d’Ethiopie (Warsaw, 1968, Naples, 1973).

Strelcyn

Strelcyn’s researches, though extensive and of major scholarly importance, by no means of course mark the end of such research, but in a sense only a good beginning. It is imperative that further medical texts be identified, published, translated, and annotated. We need a series of new monographs, on the lines of Strelcyn’s work.

Medical Textbooks, and Traditional Practitioners

The publication of further Ethiopian medical texts must be complimented by the recording of medical information from traditional medical practitioners, large numbers of whom are still alive and kicking, as the English phrase goes. Such research and publication should be important in supplementing the information included in the written texts, as well as in confirming the data included therein.

It this connection it is worthy of note that traditional Ethiopian medicine forms part of a long-established tradition. This is evident from the fact that our documentation reveals that the medicinal properties of certain plants have been known in Ethiopia for centuries, and that many medical prescriptions can be seen to have been used for generations.

Monographs and/or Journal

We should be thinking in terms of the publication of an on-going series of monographs on the work of present-day traditional practitioners, or else of a regular Journal, in which traditional medical prescriptions can be published on a regular or irregular basis.

Such publications could well be the responsibility of the Ethiopian Institute of Biodiversity, the Association of Traditional Ethiopian Medical Practitioners, and/or the University Medical Faculties.

Medicinal Botanical Gardens

And, while we are at it, why don’t we establish a botanical garden of traditional plants, perhaps somewhat like the Chelsea Physics Garden, in London. And why not have smaller botanical gardens attached to schools (and perhaps also Government office compounds) all over the country?

In that way Ethiopia’s youth, as well as the urban population, will be familiarised with the medical side of their country’s cultural heritage.

All this may also contribute to health!

  Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org

By Dr Richard Pankhurst:-

Addis Ababa – Almost thirty years ago, in what some people like to call the Good Old Days, Dr Walter Harrelson, Dean of the Divinity School of Vanderbilt University, Tennessee, visited Ethiopia in search of manuscripts of Old Testament Pseudepigrapha.

While in Addis Ababa, he met His Holiness Abuna Theophilus, the then Acting Patriarch of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, who suggested to his American visitor that funds might be sought to microfilm all manuscripts in Ethiopia, thus enabling scholars with varied interests to have access to documentation

To this end, Abuna Theophilus appointed a committee, chaired by Dr Harrelson, to explore the possibilities of microfilming the manuscripts, and of securing the funds to do so. The First Joint Consultation Meeting for Microfilming Ethiopian Church Manuscripts was accordingly held in Addis Ababa, on April 22-23 1971.

It was in this way, and readers may note that I have been quoting directly from an Ethiopian Manuscript Microfilm Library brochure, that the justly renowned EMML project was launched.

Highly Regarded

The project was so highly regarded that it received initial financial support from the American Council of Learned Societies and the National Endowment for the Humanities, and by 30 June 1977 had received American financial support, to a the tune of US$ 170,000.

Microfilming was, as far as possible systematic, and carried out church (or other institution), by church, and the filming of manuscripts was as far as possible complete. Only the most common items, such as copies of Dawit, i.e. the Psalms of David, were excluded from filming.

The project published its first detailed catalogue, of the first 300 Ethiopian manuscripts, in 1975; and its last catalogue to date, Volume X, with 999 entries – edited by Dr Getatchew Haile – six years ago, in 1993.

These catalogues, mainly, though not exclusively the work of Dr Getatchew, now cover no less than five thousand items, and are works of meticulous scholarship, on any showing.

There is in addition a back-log of many uncatalogued manuscript (how many we do not know), as well as, we may suppose, a number of already catalogued manuscripts awaiting publication.

Works Microfilmed

The EMML project, which won the admiration of virtually all scholars in the field (Leslau, Ullendorff, Strelcyn, Hammerchmidt, Chojnacki, Tubiana, et al.) and is widely quoted in works of scholarship, was based on a partnership between three institutions: the Ethiopian Ministry of Culture, the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, and St John’s Abbey and University in Collegeville, Minnesota.

Cataloguing of manuscripts by the EMML revealed that the majority of Ethiopia’s manuscripts consisted, as one would expect, of Bibles, Biblical Commentaries, Service books, Lives of Saints, and other religious works essential for the understanding of Ethiopian religion, religious institutions, and history; but also covered many other matters, including philosophy, secular and church history (such as Ethiopian royal chronicles), law, mathematics, medicine, and other subjects.

The Lives of Ethiopian Saints, though often full of unbelievable miracles, are, it should be emphasised, also full of historical information of crucial importance for the study of Ethiopian history. Many such works contain moreover unavailable data on such varied subjects as traditional church education, famines and epidemics.

Many Ethiopian manuscripts also contain “marginalia”, or otherwise unwritten pages at the beginning, end, or elsewhere in the volume, which have been used, sometimes over a period of centuries, to enter a wide variety of historically important data. This may cover such questions as royal land grants, land purchases and sales by both men and women, using gold, Maria Theresa dollars, or “primitive money”; marriage agreements and contracts; tax records (see for example the volume I edited, with Girma-Sellassie Asfaw, on the tax records of Emperor Tewodros); lists of books, usually specified by name; church paraphernalia and other property, including guns, in various churches and monasteries, etc., etc. – a rich store in effect of historical material.

Illustrations

Not a few manuscripts also contain illustrations, likewise of immense historical and cultural importance. Invaluable for the history of Ethiopian art, they also provide unique documentation on almost all aspects of Ethiopia’s historic past.

They depict such subjects as agriculture and handicrafts; wood-cutting, and house-building; clothing and dress, both male and female; crowns, and other royal decorations; crosses, and church paraphernalia; cattle-slaughtering, preparation and serving of food and drink; banquets, complete with dining tables, waiters, and slaves; hair-styles and decorations; jewellery and tattooing; horse and mule decorations; local weapons, such as spears and shields, and imported ones, like rifles; furniture and household objects, including masob, agagil, and gambo; sports and games, among them guks and gabata; diseases and debilities, among them leprosy and other skin diseases, and loss of limbs; and wild and domestic animals.

Not a few paintings consist portraits, albeit often highly stylized, of Ethiopian personalities of the past both religious and lay, while others depict class relations, with rulers, servants, and slaves. Such material, you will appreciate, dear reader, is of crucial importance to the Ethiopian political, military, medical and social historian, no less than to the historian of art.

The EMML project microfilmed only in black-and-white, though it did take some colour photographs of paintings: for the future the possibility of working in colour, with digital cameras, needs serious consideration.

Archival Material

The EMML did not confine itself only (as some may think) to manuscripts on parchment, but also microfilmed a large amount of archival material, for the most part on paper.

This is not the place to provide a catalogue of EMML microfilms (spare us that!), but take for example a few of the items in Volume IX: It contains biographical material on Ethiopia’s first foreign-educated physician-cum diplomat, Hakim Warqnah, known abroad as Dr Martin; papers on many subjects written by the assiduous, but unassuming Ethiopian scholar, Blatta Mars’e Hazen; a life of the heroic, yet little-studied, Ethiopian Patriot, Tashoma Shangut; entirely unpublished Ethiopian documents belonging to Ethiopia’s pre-war Minister of Public Works, Fitawrari Taffesa Habta Mikael; an Ethiopian Government report on the movement of Somali pastoralists; reports (from the Ethiopian as well as the British side) on the Anglo-Ethiopian Boundary Commission defining the frontier between Ethiopia and British Somaliland in the early 1930s; documents on the Wal Wal incident of December 1934, which Mussolini was to use shortly afterwards as a pretext for the Fascist invasion of Ethiopia; and much much more!

EMML microfilming was also carried out at the Institute of Ethiopian Studies Library, where manuscripts and archival material was filmed – a valuable insurance against possible destruction by fire at that institution.

Security

Microfilming, it should be emphasised, also has a significant security aspect. Once items are microfilmed they can much more easily identified if stolen; and EMML films, if need-be, can be made available to the Ethiopian police, or Interpol.

Where to See Them

EMML, as a co-operative project conceived with vision made copies of its microfilms widely available to the scholarly community, both in Ethiopia and abroad. Microfilm copies can be viewed, in Addis Ababa, at both the Ministry of Culture and the Institute of Ethiopian Studies, and, in the United States, at St John’s University, at Collegeville, Minnesota. And if, dear reader, you are not so privileged as to live in either of these towns, you can consult the published EMML catalogues, which are to be found in libraries in the main centres of learning, and easily order microfilm copies from Collegeville, for a modest fee.

But What Now?

Praise for EMML brings us to the sad point that the project, for lack of funds, or vision, has in recent years come to an end. Though microfilming of manuscripts was carried on fairly exhaustively for almost two decades in much of the country, manuscripts in many other areas, including Tegray, let alone Eritrea, have still not been touched by the project at all.

And yet the need for the systematic recording of Ethiopian manuscripts is as great, nay, far greater, than ever before!

The question with which we are now confronted is: will Ethiopia in the twenty-first Century be able to live up to the achievements, and expectations, of the Twentieth?

  Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org