Love in the Land of Barefoot Soldiers

by Frances Vieta

  “That was the worst?”

  “Yes. I’m pretty sure it was triggered by an outbreak of rinderpest, also known as cattle plague. It is an infectious viral disease that affects cattle, water buffaloes, antelopes, giraffes, wildebeest, and warthogs. It was probably introduced to Ethiopia by sick Indian cattle imported by the Italians who were busy colonizing Eritrea. It spread very quickly and destroyed eighty percent, maybe even ninety percent of the cattle. In 1889, and again in 1890, the rains failed and nothing grew. There was nothing to eat. People died in the hundreds of thousands. Menelik showed himself to be a very astute leader. He went to his fields and showed by example that there was nothing demeaning in tilling one’s fields with a hoe rather than oxen.”

  “I read that he was an exceptionally farsighted ruler. The schools, hospital, railroad all to bring his country out of the middle ages. And defeating the Italians. The Italian defeat at Adowa. Wasn’t that the first time since Hannibal that an African army defeated a European one?”

  “I remember Hannibal from grade school, but our books dwelt on the fact that he was a barbarian who came across the Alps on elephants.”

  “Well, so did the British when they came through Eritrea to free the British prisoners.”

  “I know little about that except that they came through Eritrea. But, it’s all in here,” he said, opening the navy blue leather book. “We can come back to this. Let me show you our hospital,” he said, holding the door for her.

  “Despite the name, it’s more like a clinic. We have these two examining rooms,” he said, letting her peak her head in one of them. “We have a dispensary over here, and because Mussolini has abolished patents, it is remarkably well stocked. Of course, nothing, but quinine for malaria.”

  Ceseli looked at the wall-to-wall shelves of boxes and bottles. “Why did he do that?”

  “Rescind patents? So Italy could produce its own medicine and sell it. Money, my friend, and here we have the ward. Very few Ethiopians come here now. I’m sure that’s because of the threat of war. Other foreigners still come. That man over there has yellow fever that is also spread by mosquitos. The Greeks had a name for mosquitos that translates into useless. They certainly are that. The food for our patients comes from the Italian nuns who run the school over near the compound. And it gets here by donkey.”

  “Like everything else,” she said, following him back to the laboratory.

  Marco reached for the blue book and flipped through the pages. “Malaria was once common in most of Europe, not only Italy. It has infected humans for over fifty thousand years. The reason some believe that the disease came from central Africa was that it was also common among chimpanzees and some evidence seems to suggest that the most virulent strain of human malaria might have originated in gorillas.”

  “Gorillas, as in Apes? Tarzan?”

  “Some diseases jump from monkeys to humans quite easily. I think that’s what happened in this case.” Marco paused. “The most serious type of malaria, known as plasmodium falciparum, reached Rome at about the time of Christ. I think it travelled by Roman cargo ships from Africa. The water barrels on board could have contained mosquito larvae.”

  “Are you writing a book, Marco?”

  “Maybe,” he smiled. “Is that what it sounds like?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would that be so bad?” he asked, pausing.

  “No. Not at all.”

  “What we do know is that an Italian archaeologist and historian recently completed his studies that show that malaria was partly responsible for the fall of the Roman Empire. If you can believe that! He says that several regions in the ancient Roman Empire were considered at-risk and then names areas in southern Italy, the island of Sardinia, the Pontine Marshes, of course, and Rome along the Tiber River. The stagnant water in those places was the preferred breeding grounds of mosquitos,” he said as he flicked back his hair and straightened the collar of the white laboratory coat he wore.

  “Caesar wanted to drain the Pontine Marches, but couldn’t, or didn’t get the time to do it. The epidemic of malaria during the decline of the Roman Empire might have had the same negative impact as did the lead in the drinking water. It also explained the numerous pagan temples dedicated to “fever” that later would become Christian chapels dedicated to Our Lady of the Fever.”

  “Did people already treat malaria then?”

  “Well, from what I’ve learned, the Chinese used a mixture of Qinghao to control the fever and that the slaves building the Egyptian pyramids were given large amounts of garlic and that Cleopatra slept under a mosquito net. Did you know that four members of the Medici family supposedly died of malaria? Maybe that’s why Italians have always been interested in malariology.” Marco stopped, looking at Ceseli and not wanting what he said to be a scientific lecture. “I’m boring you!”

  “No, you aren’t.”

  “The first effective treatment for malaria came from the Amerindians of Peru who made a tincture from the bark of the Cinchona tree that grew on the slopes of the Andes Mountains. There’s no mention of it in the Mayan and Aztec histories, but it seemed to control the shivering that comes with the Malaria fever. Anyhow, the Jesuit missionaries were quick to note that it did control the fever and introduced the treatment to Europe during the 1640s. It was called Jesuit bark. Of course, everyone then wanted the cinchona bark and an English trader named Charles Ledger was able to smuggle the seeds out of the Bolivian side of the Andes. Some went to the island of Java in Indonesia from which the Dutch built up a world monopoly in quinine.”

  “That’s what my father would have called good business,” Ceseli said. “But not unlike bringing pineapples to Hawaii.”

  “They never made it to Italy. Either of them. But it wasn’t until 1880, that a French army doctor, Charles Louis Alphonse Laveran, working in Algeria observed parasites for the first time inside the red blood cells of those people suffering from malaria. He was awarded the 1907 Nobel Prize for Medicine.”

  “Am I understanding that you’d be interested in a Nobel Prize?” Ceseli teased.

  “I’m not anywhere near there. Yet. But I wouldn’t shun it,” Marco smiled ruefully. “I am boring you.”

  “No, you aren’t. Really.”

  “Well, then I’ll tell you that an earlier Nobel, in 1902, was given to a Scottish doctor working in Calcutta, who proved that the mosquito was the vector for malaria in humans. A Scot and a Frenchman have won the Nobel, but it’s the Italians who have been pioneers in the field for centuries. But there has to be a way to find a vaccine to prevent the disease, not just to cure it.”

  “And that’s your Nobel?”

  “I hope so. By the way, can I convince you to leave?”

  “Probably not,” she smiled, “but do try. By the way, what about all those flowers we gathered?”

  “No matches,” he said, walking to his microscope. “I’ll take you home. I need to be back at the hospital on duty.”

  “I can go by myself.”

  “No, you absolutely can’t. I’ve told you that before. Women don’t travel by themselves. Besides, I can show off my driving skills.”

  After he dropped her off at the ministry, he drove back through the darkening streets. “Ti voglio bene” he had said on leaving her and now he was wondering if this was true. It meant I’m fond of you, even as far as to say I love you, but without bringing into play the stronger sexuality of the ti amo.

  CHAPTER 20

  LI-LI-LI-LI, LI-LI-LI-LI, LI-LI-LI-LI. IT was the Ethiopian welcome erupting from the hordes of well-wishers waiting for the arrival of the emperor. The li-li-li-li, li-li-li-li, li-li-li-li grew louder as the emperor’s Rolls Royce entered the square in front of the parliament building.

  On July 18, news began circulating that the emperor was convening a special session of parliament. The area near the parliament building swelled with people who were waiting ankle deep in mud for the emperor to arrive. Joining them were the quickly summoned greater and lesser
chiefs, who were arriving on beautifully caparisoned mules and donkeys.

  Using willow wands and swords, the court officers opened a path for the emperor to move through the crowd. Proudly wearing the field uniform of the Imperial Guard, he walked into the building where members of parliament, national dignitaries, and representatives of the foreign press were already waiting. Standish and Rutherford waited in the small area reserved for the diplomatic corps.

  Haile Sellassie had created a parliament soon after becoming emperor and built a large hall to house it with its own clock tower inspired by London’s Big Ben. It was not modeled after the deliberative and legislative parliament in England, but similar to Il Duce’s Italian one, an assembly where elected members were privileged to hear, but not contest, the decisions taken by the man in power.

  The emperor’s box was on an enclosed balcony about fifteen feet above the assembly chamber. In the box on his left, seventy year old Ras Mulugeta, the Minister of War, took his place alongside Abuna Kyrillos, the Chief Bishop of the Ethiopian Orthodox Coptic Church. The Cabinet ministers sat in another box dressed in somber mantles of gray, blue, brown, and black.

  At precisely 11:55, the Court Chamberlain wearing a chartreuse silk cape and carrying a silver-topped staff took his place in the center of the chamber. He waited while a pink silk veil dropped from the front of the emperor’s box. The veil was meant to protect the emperor from the eyes of his people, who must never see him in any movement unbecoming to his stature as might be sitting or standing. When the veil was lowered, the audience saw him standing with his speech in his hand.

  Speaking in Amharic, he began by outlining at length the dispute with Italy: “Ethiopia has no intention of establishing her authority over other countries. When the Italian people arrive with their weapons of aggression, claiming that it is to teach us civilization, the Ethiopian people, who are prepared to die for their emperor and their country, will await the invader mustered in unity.”

  Standish and Rutherford listened as he then launched a vigorous exhortation to personal courage.

  “Soldiers! When it is announced that a respected and beloved leader has died for our freedom in the course of the battle, do not grieve, do not lose hope. It is better to die with freedom than without it. Our fathers who have maintained our country in freedom have offered us their life in sacrifice. So let them be an example to you!

  “Soldier, trader, peasant, young and old, man and woman, be united! Defend your country by helping each other! According to ancient custom, the women will stand in defense of their country by giving encouragement to the soldier and by caring for the wounded. Although Italy is doing everything possible to divide us, whether Christian or Muslim, we will, united, resist.

  “Your king, who speaks to you today, will be in your midst, prepared to shed his blood for the liberty of Ethiopia. Before we conclude, there is one thing we wish to say to you once again. And this is our earnest striving for peace. By diplomatic means, Ethiopia has continuously sought a way of reaching accord that is peaceful and in which, there is honor for both of us. It has twice asked the League of Nations to get the Italian Government to honor the treaty of friendship and of arbitration that Italy voluntarily signed in 1906.

  “We shall strive for peace till the end. But even if our exertions and our goodwill have not achieved results, our conscience will not reproach us. The Ethiopian people, united in faith, stretch out their hand to God that he may strengthen the power of our valiant men, truly to defend our country’s independence.”

  A deep murmur arose in the crowded room as Haile Sellassie put away his papers. Again, the pink silk veil now rose to cover him as Standish and Rutherford made their way to the door.

  “He looks upset, doesn’t he?” Standish paused.

  “He has every reason to be. Eden’s failure in Rome is only one of the immediate problems. The way Mussolini has been acting, it wasn’t the best idea to send Eden in the first place, but I doubt if anyone else could have succeeded.”

  “Yifru told me that Belgium cancelled its order to sell Ethiopia ten million cartridges. They’ve delivered only a fifth of that. Czechoslovakia and Denmark have done the same.”

  “How will the emperor make up for that ammunition?”

  “Maybe he’s hoping we will.”

  “He must not count on Roosevelt!”

  “Yifru says that the emperor is in an impossible position. His chiefs won’t tolerate surrender without a full fight. If their fathers could defeat the Italians, so will they.”

  “Yifru knows what he’s up against, doesn’t he?”

  “The emperor’s adamant that he won’t make any concession that would damage the integrity and sovereignty of his country.”

  “But he must know what it means to lead his soldiers into the range of modern weapons. We’re not talking about popguns.”

  “Yifru says he still believes that England might yet take some action, either unilaterally or in conjunction with the League.”

  “But judging from what we have been hearing and reading, if any help were to be forthcoming from England, it would have to come through the pressure generated by the English people. Not from their leaders.”

  A few minutes later they watched as Haile Sellassie left the building. When he descended the steps to his car, the crowd broke out into the vibrant ululating Li-li-ii-li. The sound spread to the thousands standing in the mud, and along the roadside, as the emperor drove back to the Little Ghibbi. His officers of the Guard, with their lion’s hair insignia, dog-trotted, barefoot, beside the car.

  CHAPTER 21

  “BUSY?”

  “Trying to keep up with the angels,” Ceseli said, putting down the paper she was reading. “But I did find out how Emperor Lalibela got so much help.”

  “Really?” Yifru smiled, sitting down. Ceseli waved a book at him. “James Bruce of Kinnaird. Travels to Discover the Source of the Nile 1768-1773.”

  “I’ve read it.”

  “I found what I was looking for,” she said, opening the book. “In the reign of Lalibela, after the Saracen conquest of Egypt, there was a persecution against the Egyptian Christian masons, builders, and hewers of stone. Emperor Lalibela invited these workers to seek refuge in Ethiopia and four to five thousand came.”

  “That’s a lot of skilled labor.”

  “Bruce mentions that Lalibela had seen examples of the ancient works of troglodytes, and he used those examples for his own churches to be hewn out of the solid rock in his native area of Lasta. According to Bruce, Lalibela also wanted to divert the Nile from flowing down to Egypt because Egypt was now in the hands of his religious enemy. He thought that this could be achieved by making sure that the tributary rivers did not flow into Lake Tana. Egyptian agriculture flourishes only because of the silt carried with the Nile.”

  “I’m not sure how reliable Bruce is,” Yifru said. “I don’t mean about this. But there are other things that are puzzling.”

  “Such as?”

  “Did he come to Ethiopia to find the source of the Nile?”

  “What other motive would he have?”

  “Some thought he came to find the Ark of the Covenant.”

  “Why do you say that?” Ceseli froze. That’s exactly what I was thinking, she thought, but with no logical explanation.

  “Bruce was a moderately wealthy Scottish nobleman with a passion for travel. He is credited with speaking several languages including Arabic and local dialects. He claimed to have discovered the source of the Nile. That is completely false. The Jesuits were there a one hundred fifty years before he came. Not to mention that the local people have lived along the shores of Lake Tana for centuries.”

  “So let’s take everything with a handful of salt. Is there anything he did do?”

  “Visited the Ethiopian royal court at Gondar and put it on the world map.”

  “Significant.”

  “I’m not saying he didn’t come to Ethiopia, or that he didn’t put it on the map of Eu
ropean travelers, just that all he said does not seem to be factually correct.”

  “You mean he was a braggart or a liar? Yifru, you are a diplomat at heart. Why do you think he was looking for the Ark?”

  “Because of the relationship between Scotland and the Masons. The Masons of Scotland grew out of the Knights Templar, and I believe that Bruce was a Mason.”

  “That’s where we stopped the other day. The Templars. What happened to them?” Ceseli asked.

  “They excavated Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem and took the treasure. When the Templars got their hands on that hoard, they became the richest Christian order and started lending money to European monarchies and governments. Their base remained in France. By 1295, the French King, Philippe IV, owed them so much money that he decided to confiscate all their property. But he couldn’t do that because they were beholden only to the pope.”

  “I get this,” Ceseli jumped in. “He got rid of the pope.”

  “Two popes, one right after the other. Philippe then put one of his own henchmen, the archbishop of Bordeaux, into the papal seat. He became Clement V. With Clement under his complete control, Philippe put his plan into effect. On Friday October 13, 1307, he had every one of the Templars in France arrested. After interrogation and torture, the Templars were tried by the Inquisition as heretics and then burned at the stake.”

  “Ah, Christian mercy!” Ceseli smiled.

  “But some Templars were able to escape to England and Scotland, where they met with happier circumstances.”

  “Did the king ever find the treasure?”

  “Not to my knowledge. But it’s not in Ethiopia.”

  “You say that with conviction. You think Bruce came here to find the Ark?”

  “Bruce went to Axum on Timkat 18-19. It’s the Epiphany, and it’s the only time that the Ark is ever taken out of the Holy of Holies. It’s carried in procession down to the reservoir so that people can see it. It’s part of a baptism ceremony.”