Berhane Marqos Wolde Tsadik (1892-1943) was an interpreter, civil servant, diplomat, and government minister. He held several important roles in his career, starting as an interpreter at the Franco-Ethiopian railway and eventually rising to become the director-general of posts, telephones, and telegraphs in Ethiopia. Born in Cherecher, Harargehe, he attended the Capucin Mission School in Harar and continued his education at the Ecole Imperial Menelik II in Addis Ababa, where he was one of the first students.

His educational background and skills earned him praise from the American consul, who described him as one of the ablest, shrewdest, and best-educated men in Abyssinia.

Berhane Marqos’ career reached a significant position as the chargé d’affaires in Turkey at the outbreak of the Italian occupation in 1936. Yet, rather than emerging as a hero of Ethiopia, he became one of its most unexpected traitors. Berhane Marqos declared his support for Mussolini’s regime and expressed contempt for the Resistance forces.

The late artist Mickaël Bethe-Selassié who published a detailed and sympathetic portrait of the life and work of his paternal uncle, Berhana-Marqos Walda-Tsadeq (Paris: L’Harmattan, 2009) has struggled to navigate his uncle’s proximity to the toxic politics of fascism and this chilling legacy. Though Mickaël did not deny the fact that his uncle returned to Ethiopia in late 1936 during the Italian occupation after closing the Ethiopian legation in Ankara, he sought to downplay the collaboration efforts by shifting attention to his other achievements and his supposed difference with the Haile Selassi’s government’s handling of the Italian aggression.

However, a recent book entitled “Rodolfo Graziani: Story of an Italian General,“ (2022) presented the events surrounding Berhana-Marqos directly and bluntly. Based on materials gleaned from wartime archives, the author says Berhane Marqos took the initiative to express his desire to submit to the Italian authorities early on. This request was accompanied by a friendly letter dated August 23, 1936, signed by Monseigneur Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli, the book claims. Later on, Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli would become Pope John XXIII and was then the Apostolic Delegate to Istanbul.

The context of the events surrounding the Italian invasion, the emergence of the “banda” collaborators is in order. When Fascist Italy under Benito Mussolini invaded Ethiopia in 1936, Emperor Haile Selassie fled to exile in England. The Emperor’s appeal for assistance to the League of Nations did not receive the desired response. Many Ethiopian officials, nobles, and chiefs chose to continue resisting the Fasict Italian occupation, fighting to protect their country’s independence and sovereignty. While the Italians propagated the notion of a “civilizing mission” to justify colonialism, this idea was widely rejected by many Ethiopians. However, Ethiopia’s overall rejection of colonialism and its successful resistance against European imperialism didn’t mean the response was uniform. Some individuals, like Berhane Marqos Wolde Tsadik who aligned themselves to varying degrees with the Italians, and they came to be known as “banda.” (traitors). Their actions caused deep divisions within Ethiopian society during the occupation and remained a contentious issue even after Italy’s defeat and the eventual liberation of Ethiopia in 1941.

Berhane Marqos was not the only high-profile official who had submitted to the Italians. Blatengueta Woldemariam Ayele, Ethiopian minister in Paris, and chief of the Ethiopian delegation at the League of Nations in Geneva, Tadesse Meshasha, the private secretary to the Emperor, Tesfai Tegegne, director general of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, chose to make submissions or collaborate with the Italian authorities.

Aklilu Habtewold, who was then the Press Attaché at the Ethiopian Embassy in Paris and who would go on to become Prime Minister, wrote in his memoir “Aklilu Remembers“, that Blatengueta Woldemariam’s submission to the Italians as being driven by the false hope of receiving three million lire. Aklilu’s attempts to dissuade Woldemariam didn’t work, despite going to the extent of offering to provide a mental illness certificate to generate an understanding of Woldemariam’s actions and declarations. Woldemariam was resolute in his decision. Additionally, the involvement of the Emperor’s secretary, Tadesse Meshesa, who passed through Paris and met with Woldemariam, had a significant impact on his resolve. According to Aklilu’s account, the secretary, who was on his way from London to Addis Ababa, informed Woldemariam that there was no hope for the Emperor to return to Ethiopia and that the Italians would soon take control of the entire country. He encouraged Woldemariam to join the defection and not to heed Aklilu’s advice.

Tadesse Meshesa’s involvement in the events surrounding Blatengueta Woldemariam Ayele’s defection is an interesting aspect to explore. He is partly the subject in his daughter Mary Tadesse’s memoir, “My Life, My Ethiopia,” published by The Red Sea Press in 2021.

Mary Tadesse’s description of her father’s return was framed as a simple homecoming, not as a decision to work for the Italians. She emphasized the risks he took, defying Emperor Haile Selassie’s counsel and concern. “Despite the obvious risk, and against Haile Selassie’s counsel and concern, my father decided to return to Ethiopia in the midst of the occupation in December 1936. Family lore has it that his parting with the emperor was emotional, framed as it was by the uncertain future of their beloved country,” she wrote.

Moreover, Mary portrays her father as isolated and closely monitored by the occupying Italian forces after his return:

        “Mother was elated to have Father home, but he seemed war-weary and exhausted. He was reserved with us and seemed preoccupied with faraway thoughts. We children were unaware that every step he took was being monitored closely by the Italians, though Mother must have suspected it. No guests came to visit our house; only family members would briefly stop by.”

As a loyal daughter, Mary chose to downplay her father’s collaboration, offering a perspective that aligned with the version of the family’s past as presented to her.

Recent biographies written by family members often presented a more positive and selective portrayal of the individual in question, focusing on their virtues and achievements while downplaying or omitting certain aspects that might be seen as less favorable or controversial. Similarly, Pascal Woldemariam who wrote about his father, Blatten Geta Woldemariam Ayele a few years ago chose to exclude explicit discussions about his father’s sympathy with the fascist regime.

It appears that some of the aristocrats, including Tadesse Meshesa, were paid monthly salaries for their cooperation. However, the gains from such collaboration have been limited. Tragically, Tadesse Meshesha’s fate took a dark turn when he was arrested and executed following an assassination attempt on Rodolfo Graziani, which took place shortly after his return.

There is no evidence of Tadesse Meshesa’s involvement in any plot or rebellion, yet he met a grim fate during the atrocities, says Ian Campbell in his book The Addis Ababa Massacre: Italy’s national shame (London: Hurst, 2017).  The others, including Blattengueta Woldemariam, were sent off to various concentration camps in Eritrea or in Italy at Asinara, Ponza, and Tivoli, illustrating how individuals who collaborated with occupying forces still faced severe consequences.

During periods of occupation, some individuals found themselves in difficult positions where they had to navigate between loyalty to their nation and the realities imposed by the occupying forces. Collaboration, defection, or participation could have been as survival strategies or attempts to gain favor with the occupiers. Blatta Ayele Gebré, a prominent figure in the judiciary, was selected by the Italian administration to serve on the official committee tasked with investigating an assassination attempt on Graziani after he chose to submit to the Italians.

Most of these officials who submitted were part of a group of educated individuals who joined Emperor Haile Selassie’s service during the prewar period. Bahru Zewde, in his article “The Ethiopian Intelligentsia and the Italo-Ethiopian War, 1935-1941” wrote that the group has sometimes been referred to as the Catholic party, led by their mentor Blatten Geta Waldamariam. While their Catholic education was a precious qualification at that time, their conversion to the Catholic creeds rendered them politically reliable to their patron, the Emperor, historians say.

While it is valuable that biographies are being written by family members and scholars about such personalities, it would have been preferable for the authors of these works to acknowledge the complex and multifaceted nature of these individuals’ lives. Providing a more well-rounded and nuanced perspective on their actions and beliefs, within the context of their time and place in history, would have allowed readers to better understand the challenges and dilemmas these figures faced, as well as the broader historical context that influenced their decisions.

It is indeed crucial to avoid oversimplification and recognize the complexities involved when examining the actions of individuals during times of war and occupation. The hubris of personal involvement in supporting Fascism, as well as the consequences faced by figures like Tadesse Meshesha and Blatten Geta Woldemariam Ayele, highlights the difficult moral questions and complexities of historical analysis. Tadesse Meshesha was killed by the fascist forces during the Graziani massacres and Blatten Geta Woldemariam Ayele was assassination by British forces after the liberation. Both tragic events underscore the intricate nature of historical narratives and the limitations of our understanding from different times and contexts. They remind us to be cautious in passing judgment on historical figures and to strive for a comprehensive view that accounts for multiple perspectives.

(Featured image: Blatengueta Woldemariam Ayele, Ethiopian minister in Paris, submitted to the Italians.)