The Eritrean Student Movement: The Journey and the Path
Written by Omar Jaber
الحركة الطلابية الإريترية المسيرة والمسار بقلم عمر جابر
https://www.mediafire.com/file/mdxdxwy8izq417j/Omer+Jabir+on+GUES+Journey.pdf/file
A digital archive on Eritrea and Ethiopia in particular and on the Horn of Africa, in general
The Eritrean Student Movement: The Journey and the Path
Written by Omar Jaber
الحركة الطلابية الإريترية المسيرة والمسار بقلم عمر جابر
https://www.mediafire.com/file/mdxdxwy8izq417j/Omer+Jabir+on+GUES+Journey.pdf/file
Migratory and Refugee Movements in and from the Horn of Africa a 2015 article by
Günter Schröder
MARRIAGE, VITAL EVENTS REGISTRATION & ISSUANCE OF CIVIL STATUS DOCU MENTS IN ERITREA by Günter Schröder 2017
General Considerations 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. Various factors and processes have shaped the social and legal concepts relating to marriage in Eritrea, the two most important ones being: the multi-ethnic (9 ethnic communities) and multi-religious (two major religious communities) composition of its population. the succession of different political powers actually ruling over parts or the whole of what today constitutes Eritrea (traditional Ethiopian Empire and Turco-Egyptian Empire until 1890, Italy 1890-1941, Great Britain 1941-1952, Ethiopia 1952-1991, Eritrean Government since 1991).
ELF's Political Program approved by the 2nd National Congress on 28 May 1975
https://www.mediafire.com/file/jzsllk6eaafz2t3/ELF+1975+P0LITICAL+PROGRAM.pdf/file
PROSPECTS FOR ETHIOPIA IN THE NEXT YEAR1
https://history.state.gov/historicaldocuments/frus1969-76ve06/d153
Excerpts:
14. The most serious provincial dissidence is the Eritrean insurgency, which over the past year has burgeoned into a war between more than 20,000 Ethiopian troops and approximately 10,000 insurgents, not all of whom are armed. The rebels are backed by most of the province’s civilian population. The administration of martial law continues to be carried out in ruthless, repressive fashion. Frequent sweep operations, food rationing, and strict control of transportation have been successful in keeping the insurgents off balance. Still, heavy engagements occur sporadically, and both sides have incurred fairly heavy casualties. The insurgents’ major military objective seems to be an attempt to cut the Ethiopians’ long and exposed supply lines.
15. The two insurgent factions—the Eritrean Liberation Front (ELF) and the Popular Liberation Forces (PLF)—have stopped fighting each other and have engaged in limited military cooperation against the Ethiopians. Their political leaders abroad have agreed to form joint committees to coordinate the two groups’ activities, and they are making plans to hold a general conference to discuss complete unification. Real political union, however, does not appear to be imminent. The unification effort is supported by the ELF military command, but opposed by the PLF military command led by Isaias Afework.
16. Isaias’ opposition probably stems partly from his concern that unification will upset the delicate religious balance in the PLF. Both rebel factions are predominantly Moslem, but the PLF has more Christians, especially among its leadership. Isaias, a Christian, probably fears unification will dilute Christian influence—and weaken his own position.
17. Other issues have contributed to the widening split between the PLF military command and the Foreign Mission, led by Osman Saleh Sabbe and Woldeab Woldemariam. The long-standing personal enmity and rivalry for power between Osman and Isaias has intensified. Ideology plays a part: Osman—although a leftist—is more pragmatic than Isaias.
18. The PLF guerrillas, now that they are carrying the burden of fighting a full-scale insurgency, are even less inclined to accept the direction of their political representatives abroad. The fighters also resent the comfortable living conditions enjoyed by members of the Foreign Mission, and they are probably suspicious that Mission members have diverted Front funds to their personal use.
A LOOK AT ITALIAN COLONIALISM: THE WRITINGS OF ERMINIA DELL'ORO
UNO SGUARDO SUL COLONIALISMO ITALIANO: GLI SCRITTI DI ERMINIA DELL'ORO*
https://academia.edu/79272187/Uno_sguardo_sul_colonialismo_italiano_gli_scritti_di_Erminia_Dell_Oro
Erminia Dell’Oro, an Italian born in #Eritrea, is one of
the few writers to have addressed the issue of Italian colonialism in her works
from the point of view of the colonized. She describes the consequences of
domination based on racial laws, massacres,, and deportations. Asmara addio
(Goodbye Asmara), L’abbandono (The Abandonment), Il fiore di Merara (The Flower
of Merara), Vedere ogni notte le stelle (Seeing the Stars Every Night), La gola
del Diavolo (The Devil’s Throat) are some of her works dealing with cruel
aspects of Italian colonialism, such as the "madamato," the
concubinage between Italian men and Eritrean women, and “meticciato”, children
born from the concubinage, that led to the humiliation of the Eritrean woman
and to the identity crisis of so many children. https://academia.edu/79272187/Uno_sguardo_sul_colonialismo_italiano_gli_scritti_di_Erminia_Dell_Oro
The scents of spices fill the air, the clear skies and the red hues of African soil are visible in the novels of Erminia Dell’Oro. Like Elisa Kidané, Ribka Sibhatu, Igiaba Scego, Cristina Ali Farah, Maria Abbebù Viarengo, and Gabriella Ghermandi, Erminia Dell’Oro comes from a former Italian colony and writes in Italian, her mother tongue. Dell’Oro is, according to Daniele Comberiati’s definition, a “postcolonial” writer of the “fourth shore.” The first term refers to the themes in her works, particularly Italy’s relationship with its former colonies and the consequences of colonialism, while the second term recalls the phrase used in Fascist propaganda to designate the then Italian colony of Libya and, by extension, the other colonies of the Horn of Africa in addition to the three shores (Adriatic, Tyrrhenian, and Ionian) of the national territory.
However, unlike the aforementioned writers, Dell’Oro, along with Luciana Capretti, born in Libya, is the only one to have both parents of Italian origin, thus fully belonging to the colonizers rather than the colonized. A rather unique case in a literary landscape of names like Wole Soyinka, Chinua Achebe, Abdulrazak Gurnah, or Ngugi Wa Thiong’o, to name a few. Yet, her voice, arriving in Italy from the “fourth shore,” is fundamental for gaining a different and less idealized perspective of Italian colonialism.
Born in 1938 to Luigi Dell’Oro and Gioconda Vespa in Asmara, Eritrea—the earliest Italian colony—where her paternal grandfather Carlo, who came from Lecco, had settled as early as 1896, Erminia was the first of four children. For the small city situated on a plateau at 2,400 meters above sea level, this was a period of maximum splendor in terms of infrastructure, industrial, and economic growth. The presence of Italians at that time was significant, considering that, according to the 1939 census, Asmara had a population of 98,000 inhabitants, 53,000 of whom were Italian. The Asmara of Erminia’s childhood would always remain an enchanted land for her, with its breathtaking landscapes: the Dahlak Islands and their coral sea, walks along the dry bed of the Anseba River, trips to Keren for the Monday camel market, and overnight stays at the “Sicilia” hotel, picnics at Hebo, and train journeys on the littorina from Asmara to Massawa, where her grandparents lived, among the mountains covered with prickly pear cacti and populated by baboons. Tunnels piercing through the mountains, cliffs, and bridges suspended over ravines. Camel drivers, veiled women walking along with caravans and driving mules and donkeys with sticks. And then, the Green Island off the coast of Massawa, inhabited only by hermit crabs and birds.
For Erminia, Asmara is also a city of smells and colors: the coffee drunk by her father and uncles at the Vittoria Bar on Viale della Regina, the colorful fabrics, the zuries (long dresses worn by Eritrean women), the multicolored beads, the berberé (red chili pepper mixed with other spices), the scirò (fava bean flour), and the taff (a local grain) used to make anghera (a thin flatbread), all products sold at the grain market. And in addition, the blue skies, the red earth, the colorful birds, a city where crickets sing and hyenas and jackals howl, where children play and laugh outdoors. A charming city also because of its multi-ethnic nature, where along with the Eritreans, Indians, Arabs, Greeks, and people of various races and religions coexist: Copts, Jews, Muslims, Catholics. An aspect of Asmara that, as Daniele Comberiati states, is also highlighted by another writer born in Eritrea, Elisa Kidané.
After Italian colonialism, on April 1, 1941, the British took over as the new administrators of the country. Viale Mussolini, the majestic main street lined with double rows of palm trees, known as the “closed field” by Eritreans because it was closed off to their passage, became Corso Italia, symbolizing that the era of Italian colonialism was over. In the 1950s, Eritrea was first federated and then annexed to Ethiopia. Erminia, who attended Italian schools, remained there until 1958, after which she moved to Italy, feeling like a magical plant in one of her recent stories: “torn from its roots” (2006:16), from a land where the sky seemed to be “washed every morning [...] and then spread out entirely above the earth, clear and blue” (2006:19).
“Arriving in Milan in April,” Dell’Oro recounts in an interview she graciously granted us, “thanks to a train pass that I received as a gift from my father to explore the country of my origins, which I had never visited before, I began to travel mainly in the north.” In Milan, she collaborated with the daily Il Tempo, and in the ‘68 era, became socially engaged, married, and from 1975 to 1990, managed the Einaudi bookstore. Later, she worked for Einaudi as a reader of foreign texts. Meanwhile, she became a writer, first with novels for adults, and from 1993, she started publishing children’s stories. “I never imagined I would write for children,” Dell’Oro confesses. “The first story, Matteo and the Dinosaurs, published by Einaudi ragazzi, was born from an experience accompanying my grandson to the Natural History Museum in Milan. Since then, I have continued to write for children. My latest book is titled The Kidnapped Cat, published by Battello a Vapore.”
I arrived in Italy. I did it thirty years later, but inside me, unconsciously, it was already formed. To be honest, I initially wrote a 400-page novel, but it was lost. It contained memories of Asmara, but it was more of a love story; I hadn’t yet fully processed my life experiences. Then, after many years, one early morning, I woke up and began to write its beginning. Something, I don’t know what, had unlocked. It was what the poet Franco Loi talks about: what was already inside me surfaced.”
In an interview published on El Ghibli, Erminia states: “When I arrived in Italy, I realized that almost no one knew about the history of the Italian colonies in Africa. It was a part of our past that no one knew about or wanted to know about. Our colonies were small, quickly lost, and populated mainly by fascists... there was no literature on this subject, unlike in other European countries. So, when I returned to writing, I positioned myself on the side of the Eritreans.” Dell’Oro, more than anyone else, sought to dispel the myth of a “humane” Italian colonialism, which was established from the very beginning of our colonial policy. Her demystification of the myth of Italians as “good people” — supposedly more tolerant, humane, and magnanimous than other conquerors — is driven by the desire to clarify what our colonial adventure really was, from its origins to the fall of the Fascist Empire. Even in our colonial history, Dell’Oro points out, there were massacres, deportations, and racial laws. And while distinguishing between the early colonialism, characterized by a desire to improve the lives of African populations, and Fascist colonialism, which was marked by oppression, Dell’Oro does not hesitate to highlight the different living conditions between the privileged class of whites and that of blacks, presenting us with a city divided in two.
In Asmara Addio, she describes Sunday at the Campo Polo stadium, where trotting and galloping horse races were organized. There, the elite of Asmara gathered, with ladies flaunting elegant dresses and binoculars to better follow the races. “My mother,” Erminia recalls, “detested the strolls on the main avenue and the social scene. She also avoided attending the Italian Club, a somewhat snobbish and Fascist place, where people spent evenings playing canasta and bridge, and where dance parties were often organized.” Besides the parties, there were tennis tournaments, outings, and hunting trips. There was the time for a stroll through the central streets: “Hats, veils, pipes, canes [...] It was the Asmara of the whites, and at the time, Eritreans were not allowed to walk on Corso Mussolini, later renamed Corso Italia” (1997:22). They were relegated to Abbasciaul, on the outskirts of the city. They would come to the center only to sell eggs and poultry, while children went there to beg for bacscisc, or tips. “It was from our domestic staff,” Dell’Oro recounts, “that I learned the local language, Tigrinya, not from Eritrean children, as they were not allowed to attend Italian schools.” In fact, many Eritreans worked as servants or gardeners in European households. The city was structured according to who governed it, and as Erminia Dell’Oro emphasizes in La Gola del Diavolo, “It was the whites who considered themselves masters, in a land where blacks had always lived” (25). The same infrastructures built—roads, bridges, the Asmara-Massawa railway, hospitals, factories—according to Dell’Oro, served Italian interests exclusively, not those of the conquered country, and what was considered advantageous for the conquerors was not necessarily beneficial for the conquered.
The pages of many of Erminia Dell’Oro’s novels also reveal underlying racism on the part of the Italians. The concept of Eritreans as an inferior race was deeply rooted in our colonizers and manifested itself in the sexual advances they made toward Eritrean women. Characters like Sahira, the Bilena maid of the Conti household, are portrayed in her novels. With her splendid, sinuous body wrapped in long, colorful dresses, Sahira became the object of desire for many men who frequented the Contis’ home, until she met a tragic end due to a bad affair with an Italian who killed her with twelve stab wounds in the middle of an Asmara street for having ended the relationship (1997:172-173). Then there’s Elsa, whose real name is Haimanot. The Italian engineer she works for as a maid refuses to pronounce a name that is too difficult for him and renames her Elsa. Every night, the engineer goes to Elsa’s room, until she becomes pregnant and is sent back to her village with a little money. “A beautiful baby girl was born, with skin as pale as the moon, almost too delicate for Elsa to dare to touch” (1991:101). A year later, the engineer returns to Italy, taking the child with him and leaving Elsa to her sad fate. Finally, there is “the beautiful Nura, with curly black hair, golden melancholic eyes, and the bearing of women from the lowlands; [...] she worked on a banana plantation just outside the village; the owner, who had been occupied with other affairs in Asmara for some time, had been her man. Nura was fourteen when she met him, and he was already old. [...] One morning, while she was going to her wells, she saw Nura—a child-woman—washing herself” (1994:70). Nura had a child with this man who came from Southern Italy, who later abandoned her.
Another theme widely addressed in Dell’Oro’s novels is that of the madamato, an institution that existed since the first Italian colonialism in Eritrea and later spread to other Italian colonies, referring to concubinage between Italian men and Eritrean women. In Eritrea, it was justified as part of a local tradition, the “marriage by wage” of limited duration, called dumoz: the groom was required to provide for the bride by giving her a fixed compensation until the contract expired. However, Italians did not care much about the obligations implied by this contract and understood the madamato as the possibility of freely enjoying domestic and sexual services, which ultimately devalued the Eritrean woman and her personhood. Moreover, these peoples—as Major Donati claims in the novel L’abbandono—“forget quickly, they don’t have feelings like us, they are different” (1991:44).
Dell’Oro thus sketches the character of Lisetta’s mother in Asmara Addio. Lisetta is a mixed-race child, the daughter of an Italian who, in old age, fathered three children with a young native woman. While the girl listens to the words her father says to her mother as he leaves for Italy, her gaze is lost in the void: “Don’t worry [...] I’ll bring you to Italy, I’ll send you money soon” (138). But the mother “nodded in agreement and said nothing. She knew hard times were ahead, the man would disappear; she didn’t want to hope, like other women who lived in the futile expectation of a letter” (138). Lisetta reappears in the following pages when, in order to survive hunger, she ends up becoming a sciarmutta, or prostitute. There are many references to sciarmuttismo in Eritrea in Dell’Oro’s works, especially in L’abbandono, where in the opening pages, the character of Salvatore the Calabrian appears, who, despite the declaration of love tattooed on his chest for his fiancée Rosalia waiting for him back in Italy, spends every night with the sciarmutte of Massawa (1991:28).
Starting in April 1937, with the introduction of racial laws, unions with local women were punishable by imprisonment of one to five years, and mixed marriages were prohibited, leading to the denial of recognition for children born from such relationships. Mixed-race children, called “missions” because they were often abandoned in orphanages run by Catholic missionaries, were considered the fruits of sin.
Cinzi overcomes his fears of the racial laws when he realizes that “a relationship with an Eritrean woman was tolerated as long as it was not too conspicuous. The Duce was far away, and with that climate and those women, it was impossible to expect that the laws would not be modified to suit personal needs and passions” . But when Italy enters the war, Carlo sends Sellass and their children back to their native village and abandons them, boarding a ship to South Africa. As a result of this marriage, Sellass will be rejected not only by the Italians—since mixed families were not well accepted—but also by the Eritreans of the village of Adi Ugri, because she made herself a servant of the “bad people who came as masters” (36) in their country. The same happens to her children, Marianna and Gianfranco, who belong fully neither to one people nor the other, but are simply considered “mixed,” “bastards,” or “pro-Italy.” Erminia Dell’Oro recounts: “It was the story itself that sought me out in the person of Marianna, the mixed-race daughter of Sellass. One day, I was presenting Asmara Addio in Milan when a woman of my age approached me to ask for an autograph. As I signed the book, she told me that she remembered seeing me often pass by on Corso Italia, in Asmara. That’s when I began to think about when, as girls, we would take evening strolls along the avenue, we Italian girls all well-dressed and groomed, while Eritrean or mixed-race girls were kept out of that world, and I thought to myself that I would like to write something on the subject. Then one day, this person called me and asked me to write her story. I did, and I added some imaginary elements to soften her loneliness, such as the bush in front of her house with which young Marianna continuously talks.”
Another terrible aspect of colonialism highlighted by Dell’Oro is the use of gas in the war for the conquest of Ethiopia. A chapter of Asmara Addio is dedicated to the fascist attack on Ethiopia in 1936 and the battle in which mustard gas, a poisonous gas, was used against the defenseless population. This sad truth, denied until a few years ago, came to light thanks to films and documents preserved in the State Archives. Dell’Oro herself admits she knew nothing about it until she read the works of Angelo Del Boca, one of the few historians committed to reconstructing our colonial history. As she writes in Asmara Addio: “For two days, the men stationed around the lake to fight against the white men had waited in vain for reinforcements, food, and water [...]; instead, another attack came from the enemy, poison gases were dropped from airplanes, and many of them died in terrible agony” (139).
“In Asmara,” Erminia Dell’Oro recalls, “we did not have precise news about what was happening in Ethiopia, we only knew that atrocities were being committed. In 1989, a few months after the release of Asmara Addio, before the historical documentation on the war in Ethiopia had been made public, I was invited to the television show of journalist Maurizio Costanzo, who provocatively asked me if what I claimed in my book about the poisoning of Lake Ashanghi with mustard gas by Italian troops was true. I replied yes and said that documents would soon be released to prove it. The next day, I received many letters of protest, but the facts proved me right.”
To complete the picture of Italian colonialism, there is still one of Erminia Dell’Oro’s unpublished works, written in 1999 and titled Il Re di Pietra (The Stone King). “I will propose it to a publisher soon,” says Erminia. “I had Angelo Del Boca read it, and he liked it very much. It tells the story of a storyteller from Axum who arrives at the court of Haile Selassie and falls in love with a courtesan. The book describes the attack on the Viceroy of Ethiopia, Rodolfo Graziani, who had committed horrific acts in Addis Ababa.” This book would complete the history of Italian colonialism that Erminia Dell’Oro has skillfully depicted in her novels to ensure that Italians know or remember it.
Aruffo, A. 2010. Il colonialismo italiano. Da Crispi a Mussolini. Rome: Datanews.
Capretti, L. 2004. Ghibli. Milan: Rizzoli.
Comberiati, D. 2008. Una diaspora infinita: l’ebraismo nella narrativa di Erminia Dell’Oro. In Memoria collettiva e memoria privata: il ricordo della Shoah come politica sociale, edited by Lucamante, S., Jansen, M., Speelman, R., & S. Gaiga. Italianistica Ultraiectina 3. Utrecht: Igitur Utrecht Publishing & Archiving Services.
———. 2009. La quarta sponda. Scrittrici in viaggio dall’Africa coloniale all’Italia di oggi. Rome: Caravan.
Del Boca, A. 1992. Gli italiani in Africa Orientale. La conquista dell’Impero, vol. II. Milan: Mondadori.
———. 2002a. Gli italiani in Africa Orientale. La caduta dell’Impero, vol. III. Milan: Mondadori.
———. 2002b. L’Africa nella coscienza degli Italiani. Miti, memorie, errori e sconfitte. Milan: Mondadori.
———. 2009. Italiani, brava gente? Vicenza: Neri Pozza.
Dell’Oro, E. 1991. L’abbandono. Una storia eritrea. Turin: Einaudi Nuovi Coralli.
———. 1993. Matteo e i dinosauri. Milan: Einaudi ragazzi.
———. 1994. Il fiore di Merara. Milan: Baldini & Castoldi.
———. 1996. Mamme al vento. Milan: Baldini & Castoldi.
———. 1997. Asmara addio. Milan: Baldini & Castoldi.
———. 2000. La casa segreta. Milan: Bruno Mondadori.
———. 2004. Un treno per la vita. Milan: Bruno Mondadori.
———. 2005. La gola del diavolo. Milan: Bruno Mondadori.
———. 2006. La pianta magica. Milan: Il Battello a Vapore, Edizioni Piemme.
———. 2007. La principessa sul cammello. Trieste: Einaudi ragazzi.
———. 2010. Vedere ogni notte le stelle. San Cesario di Lecce: Manni Editore.
———. 2013. Dall’altra parte del mare. Milan: Il Battello a Vapore, Edizioni Piemme.
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Johnson, E. 2003. Home, Maison, Casa: The Politics of Location in Works by Jean Rhys, Marguerite Duras, and Erminia Dell’Oro. London: Associated University Press.
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———. 1995b. Fotocopia a colori. Verona: Novastampa.
———. 2004. Orme nel cuore del mondo. Verona: Studio Iride.
Said, E. 1998. Cultura e imperialismo. Letteratura e consenso nel progetto coloniale dell’Occidente. Rome: Gamberetti Editrice.
Sibhatu, R. 1993. Aulò. Canto-poesia dall’Eritrea. Rome: Sinnos
Maharana Hadgu: Testimonies on the so-called Menkae Movement
Interviewed by Aida Kidane 2004
Aida: The word "Menkae" evokes curiosity and intrigue.
Although it has become a familiar term in many Eritrean households, its true
meaning remains misunderstood by most. For years, the EPLF leadership labelled
the Menkae movement as a regionalist faction, relegating it to a forgotten
chapter of the Eritrean guerrilla struggle. The sensitive nature of the Menkae
issue has often led to its suppression, and their story remained buried until
recently, when a resurgence of interest prompted a closer look into the history
of these Menkae martyrs. In a 1996 video interview, the President mentioned that
the Menkae fighters were not even honoured as martyrs—their legacy was silenced,
and their files closed.
Many of these young Menkae members joined the
struggle, or meda, shortly after graduating or when they were close to
completing their studies. In the 1960s and 1970s, graduating from university
was a significant achievement for any Eritrean family, celebrated with
relatives and friends. The future was bright for these graduates, who were
respected and held in high regard within their communities. Yet, these students
consciously chose to give up promising careers and personal comfort, trading a
life of certainty for one of constant danger and deprivation.
They endured harsh conditions—sleeping on the
ground without proper bedding or food, living in the face of death every
day—all for the sole purpose of liberating Eritrea, a country that had suffered
tremendously. Their commitment was profound, and many were acutely aware of the
personal sacrifices they were making. Students from abroad—whether in Europe,
the USA, Arab countries, or the Eastern Bloc—were similarly driven by the
cause. In fact, students studying in Eastern Bloc countries even made a pact that
those who completed their education would immediately join the armed struggle,
whether for the ELF or EPLF.
The emergence of the "Menkae"
movement was not the result of a single, unified cause. Rather, it was a mosaic
of various grievances and dissatisfactions that coalesced under the name
"Menkae." Maharana Hadgou, a war veteran who joined the EPLF in 1974
and served until liberation, witnessed these events firsthand.
The following account captures his reflections
from his early years of joining the front. I am grateful for his willingness to
share his memories and for his patience in answering my many questions. Stories
like Maharana's help us gain insight into the daily lives of the fighters—an
aspect that has seldom been discussed in detail. His account paints a vivid
picture of the realities of those days. He has also provided a video narration
about the Menkae martyrs. Although his story touches on a painful period, it’s
important to remember that there were also many good and worthwhile days in meda.
Maharana: The book Destructive Movement, written by Isaias in 1976,
was distributed to all fighters three years after the Menkae movement. Everyone
read it. Typically, a political commissioner or a cadre of a haili kept
the book. As a cadre and member of the party at the time, I remember that
anyone who opposed the narrative was taken away—many secretly disappeared.
The Menkae movement began in September 1973 and
gradually unfolded until the end of 1976. Then another group, known as the “Yemeen,”
meaning ‘Rightists’ emerged and shifted the focus away from the Menkae
movement. It was claimed that the Yemeen were acting against the Menkae,
and everyone was warned to be wary of them. Isaias accused the Yemeen of
being the ones who purged and eliminated Menkae members like Solomon
Woldemariam. He asserted that they pretended to oppose the Menkae while
pursuing their own regionalist agenda.
During the struggle, food was scarce. Even
salt, the cheapest commodity, was not available daily. Sugar became a distant
memory—we went years without drinking it. Breakfast was non-existent, and we
typically had just one meal a day. The fighters made immense sacrifices for
independence, but what we see today is not the reward they envisioned.
After liberation, the fighters wanted to be
governed by written laws, sought peace with neighboring countries, and desired
for their rights to be respected. But Isaias soon assumed absolute control,
behaving like a king who believed only he knew what was best for the country.
He undermined anyone with knowledge and centralized all power. He dictated
policies on land, the constitution, and multi-party systems. Those governing
under him also turned against us. Eventually, even these officials realized that
Isaias was driving the country towards ruin. When they demanded changes and
reforms, he accused them of treason and losing the vision of the struggle,
despite their being experienced leaders.
In brief, as I mentioned in the
video, the Menkae movement began publicly in September 1973, although Isaias
and Ramadan claimed it had started secretly earlier. At the time, the gedli
had no formal program or bylaws and was governed by a set of guerrilla rules.
The PLF, or Hizbawi Hailetat (H.H.), had around 22 or 32 military rules
governing conduct, such as punishments for breaking a needle, showing
suspicious behavior, damaging a weapon, or leaking information to the enemy.
These rigid rules did not facilitate good relations with the civilian
population.
When educated individuals like Musie
and John joined the front, they brought new perspectives. As university
students, they had studied various systems and structures of foreign guerrilla
movements and began advising the front on how it should be structured. They
would write proposals during the day and return to their positions by night.
With Isaias’s approval, they were appointed to a committee to draft a
structured program for the front.
At that time, the H.H. was divided into three
groups: the first led by Ramadan, the second by Isaias, and the third by the
Obel group. Together, they numbered fewer than 500 fighters, perhaps as few as
300. The progressive group, later labelled as the Menkae, argued for closer
civil relations, separation of civilian and fighter administration, improved
medical services, and better weapon storage to avoid damage from the elements.
They proposed establishing an intelligence unit to track the enemy’s positions
and strengthen the army’s strategic capabilities. They also advocated for
providing basic education to civilians in liberated areas and ensuring that all
fighters were politically aware. Furthermore, they suggested developing
structured foreign relations and maintaining close connections with the
Eritrean diaspora to secure necessary resources.
These proposals were drafted in Gereger, Sudan,
before I had joined the front. The leaders of PLF1 and PLF2 then met to discuss
their current positions and decided that, to strengthen the movement and avoid
being vulnerable to the enemy, they should unite. Isaias and Ramadan led the
unification effort, while the Obel group decided to stay out until they gained
a clearer understanding of the situation. Following the unification, about six
to seven Haylitat units, each with 50-60 fighters, were formed.
The progressives, now labeled as
Menkae, argued that given the unification of the two fronts and the growing
strength of the movement, the drafted structures should be implemented. They
believed that rules should reflect the circumstances of the front, regardless
of one’s educational background. They also opposed certain practices, such as
the policy that if a fighter deserted, not only would he face the death
penalty, but his family would also have to compensate for his weapon. The
Menkae contended, “Our families did not send us to join the struggle; they
expect us to be in Addis, Sudan, or even dead. Why should they be made to pay
for our choices? If we desert, we deserve punishment, but our families should
not suffer for our decisions.”
Isaias exploited their arguments to accuse them
of undermining the unity of the two fronts, claiming they sought to divide and
destroy the movement at a time when victory was near. He branded them as
opportunists who aimed to disrupt progress. He also manipulated new cadres like
Wuchu, who were uneducated, by claiming that the Menkae—labeled as elitists in
“bell-bottom pants”—were trying to suppress the less educated and seize power
for themselves.
Many of us were new, inexperienced, and still
students. We proposed that any confrontations be resolved democratically and
that those accused should be given a fair hearing. We also opposed the ongoing
violent clashes with the ELF (Jebha), suggesting that, as fellow Eritreans, we
should seek a resolution through mediation by respected elders (Shumagelle),
instead of prolonging the conflict and losing fighters unnecessarily. Isaias
and his group dismissed these suggestions, arguing that, “The ELF tried to wipe
us out, and we survived. Now, should we ask for forgiveness for their guilt?”
This stance further isolated the Menkae, who were accused of conspiring with
the Obel group to stay neutral until the Menkae seized power.
During that time, Ethiopian EPRP
fighters like Berhane Meskel were in Sahel for training, and the Menkae were
accused of telling the EPRP to wait until they came into power. Within the
front, the Menkae were also falsely charged with being regionalists who sought
to divide the movement—an accusation fabricated by Isaias (similar to what’s
happening today). Those of us who called for a peaceful resolution were
imprisoned. We were made to sit under trees during the day, and at night, we
were taken away one by one to remote locations, where we were beaten severely
to force confessions. Eventually, we had to comply just to end the torture.
They then told others that we had recanted because we were unaware of the full
situation. Most of us, students, endured these beatings. Some of us are
fortunate to have survived, perhaps just to be able to tell our story. Survival
was extremely difficult due to constant hunger, thirst, and other
harsh conditions.
As prisoners, we could not move even
an inch without permission. If a snake approached us, we had to ask the guard
for permission to move. We were infested with lice, and even those suffering
from diarrhoea had to ask for permission to relieve themselves, often being
told to wait until they soiled their pants. When that happened, they were
accused of doing it intentionally to create a foul smell and were beaten as
punishment. I witnessed many such beatings inflicted on severely dehydrated and
weakened prisoners. It’s hard to believe the extent of the cruelty shown
towards fellow fighters.
Prisoners were often tied to trees,
sitting with their backs against the trunks, each group guarded by three
guards. We were completely isolated, forbidden to speak to one another. If
someone needed to urinate, he had to ask for permission, and the usual response
was, “Wait.” If a fighter in distress asked another prisoner for a blanket
without the guard’s permission, he was accused of sending coded messages. Even
when the prisoner truthfully explained the situation, he was beaten for not
seeking prior approval. These punishments included being tied up by both hands
and legs, beaten, and then left out in the sun for the entire day.
There was a plant called Ubel,
which grew along riverbanks and twisted like a whip when dried. Being beaten
with it caused horrific injuries, turning backs into open wounds. Some
prisoners died from such beatings. Those who cried out had their mouths stuffed
with cloth, leaving only their eyes to convey their pain. I experienced this
myself and saw it happen to others. Despite everything, we continued to serve
the front, refusing to flee, knowing that if we
did, those left behind would bear even greater punishment.
When prisoners were taken to the
"toilet," we were lined up in groups of two or three. The first line
had to remove their pants and kneel, facing the guards, while the next line
faced the opposite direction. It was a degrading and humiliating process.
I remember seeing four female
fighters during my early days in captivity. We lived near the riverside, and
these women would come to visit. Later, a fifth woman, Abeba Haile, joined
them. Abeba, now living in Europe, is the wife of Stephanos Bruno. Other female
fighters, like Dehab Tsafatsion and Aberash Melke, were executed. Werku Zerai
and Maasho are still living in Asmara. Abeba, a former airline hostess, was
imprisoned even though she had only been in training when the Menkae issue
arose. Because Maasho came from a peasant background, she was considered
uninvolved and released. Abeba, although initially imprisoned, was treated more
leniently due to her background and connections. In 1976, she attempted to
write a book about women—a handwritten diary—but it was viewed negatively by
the leadership.
The torturers were eventually targeted and
eliminated, accused of being part of the “Yemeen” faction. We were told,
"They beat you, so you should do the same to them," but we refused.
This was part of the strategy devised by the leadership—to incite us to seek
revenge, thereby making us complicit in their plans. It was a difficult and
painful time. Reflecting on these events in the video, I received a call from
someone named Kidane, now living in Canada, who said I had shared his story. He
didn’t remember me at first, but I reminded him that he was from the Akhria
area in Asmara, and during our phone conversation, his memory slowly returned.
He was one of those who had been brutally beaten. I reminded him of when we met
in Amader, Tsellima after he joined the ELF, and I had asked him what had
become of our oath. He recalled the conversation but not me personally.
Many fighters were told they were simply being
misled by others in their circles and urged to “come to their senses.” The
leadership tried everything to turn fighters against their comrades, but they
responded by saying, “We acted innocently, seeking democratic solutions. We
didn’t want to hurt anyone. We’re not regionalists. We have nothing to do with
these fabricated accusations.”
Most of the people who beat us are no longer
alive—they have already been martyred. I remember one of them, Tekie, who died
in the battle of Genfelom near Keren. He was a Hayli leader in the
Deboloch division and came from a peasant background. Isaias convinced these
fighters that the educated members were trying to take control away from the
masses. But we were all there to liberate our country, without any thoughts of
personal gain or future power.
The sacrifices were immense, and many peasants
died quickly, forcing us to recruit new fighters aggressively. Isaias used
everyone for his power consolidation, even until the time of liberation. He had
carefully planned how to manipulate each group. The PLF1 (Ramadan group)
consisted mostly of fighters from the Red Sea areas like Hirgigo. Their
leadership included figures such as Ramadan, Ibrahim Affa, Alamin, Shehem
Dankalay, and Hilal.
When Musie and others initiated their movement,
leaders like Alamin and Ali Said Abdella supported them. However, they later
betrayed the movement, allowing Isaias to sway them. He convinced them that the
Menkae were using them, with deep-rooted motives to undermine the struggle. He
painted the Menkae as opportunists who, just as victory was within reach,
sought to reverse all the progress made.
The movement wasn’t motivated by regionalism or
religion; it arose from the difficult circumstances and genuine grievances.
Recruited fighters first gathered in Durfo, outside Asmara, before traveling
through Ginda and Sheeb Gidgid near Hergigo. From there, we moved down to
Semhar and traveled north along the coast. After six days, we reached Karora, a
border village between Eritrea and Sudan. Since we didn’t know the land well,
we relied on the Rashaida tribe as guides, who were paid for their assistance. We
did not trust Tigre speakers. The ELF targeted the Rashaida, but Shabia treated
them with respect, so they became good spies for us, providing information on
Ethiopian positions and helping us evade enemy patrols.
New fighters, particularly those from the
cities, were often beaten to keep them moving despite hunger and exhaustion. We
questioned why new recruits were being mistreated, arguing that everyone was
there to fight for independence and that democratic principles should govern
us. Cruelty towards fighters would only alienate the civilians and weaken the
struggle. We urged the leadership to provide adequate food and set up stations
at water points to strengthen the fighters’ endurance.
During Taalim (training), Isaias was our
commissioner, educating us. When we shared our concerns, he responded with
pride and arrogance, dismissing us as spoiled city boys accustomed to being
pampered by our families. He instructed the guides to bring us to our destination
“by any means necessary.” Even within Isaias’s circle, there was favouritism.
Some, like Said Idris, were discharged from the front. Our questions about why
some were executed as spies without due process made Isaias uncomfortable,
fearing future accountability.
Despite having every reason to flee, many of us
chose to stay. We were stationed near the Sudanese border, with Ethiopian
military bases close by in Karora. Yet, our commitment to the struggle for our
people was stronger than the desire to escape. Woldemikael Haile saved many by
turning away weak or very young recruits, encouraging them to support the
struggle from civilian areas instead. He was accused of rejecting potential
fighters, but he stood firm and did not fear Isaias.
Isaias was wary of strong figures like Woldemikael,
Ibrahim Affa, and Mesfin Hagos—brave men within the leadership who, despite
everything, endured tremendous hardships. The leadership committee, including
Mesfin, Isaias, and Ramadan, controlled the fate of those accused and
persecuted. Looking back, it’s remarkable that we survived it all. Why did we
remain so complacent in the face of such injustice and brutal beatings? Why
didn’t we flee when Sudan was not far away?
Now, I see how strong we were to endure so
much.
Mesfin fears that he will one day be held
accountable for the injustices he was involved in. He once held a prominent
position and a respected name, but the past now haunts him.
Musie and the others were initially imprisoned
in Gereger Tebeh, like the rest of us. There are two places named Gereger: one
in Eritrea and one in Sudan. Later, our base was moved to Bleqat, and the
prisoners were transferred there as well. Bleqat is about a three-hour walk
from Gereger, both located in the Sahel region. Tebeh is a chain of mountains
separated from Bleqat by a river.
We, the army, were later informed that the
decision had been made to execute the Menkae members, but we weren’t told how it
would be carried out. After we were released, some of those who remained told
us that the prisoners were taken away one by one. A friend of mine, now
residing in Atlanta, was imprisoned after my release. He explained that the
prisoners were taken away in handcuffs—chains known as ganshur, which
could be sourced from either Sudan or Ethiopia. After each prisoner was taken
away, only the handcuffs were returned, signaling their deaths. Initially, we
thought they were taken to a "court" for a trial, as we assumed such
a thing existed. We even believed that some might have been reassigned to Haylitat
units or discharged. But when we noticed that only the handcuffs were coming
back, it became clear that this was a killing practice. Seeing the handcuffs
return, one prisoner remarked, "When will it be my turn?"—fully aware
of what awaited him. Yet, what could any of them do? They were completely
isolated, unable to speak to or even see each other for the entire year.
The executions of the progressives became known
because these individuals were long-serving fighters, highly educated, and
served as political commissioners. Many others were killed without any mention
because we were constantly on the move and caught between battles. When
fighters were taken away under various pretexts, we often assumed they were
simply being transferred. Some were accused of being spies, and those who knew
of their innocence are no longer alive to tell the truth. While there may have been
spies among us, they should have been charged and tried democratically—not
tortured and beaten to death during interrogations.
I know Memhir Tesfu Zewde, and his account is
true because he was also a prisoner. In an audio interview, he mentioned that
the Menka members were slaughtered with knives. He himself was once told he was
being released, only to be taken away to be killed. Fortunately, the Sudanese
intervened and rescued him, even though he had already lost a leg. He was
imprisoned, released to fight, and then re-imprisoned multiple times.
In his 1973 document, Destructive Movement,
Isaias labeled the progressives as spoiled individuals with class problems. But
they were far from spoiled in meda—they endured immense suffering. The
female fighters, too, had shed any traces of city upbringing. Even basic
necessities like sanitary pads were unavailable to them. They were beaten like
the men and subjected to the same cruel punishments. Every month, prisoners
were beaten to extract supposed secrets. Many brave fighters cried out in pain
during these torturous sessions.
Those like Sebhat and Petros were part of the
movement but secretly passed all information to the leadership and were
subsequently absorbed into the leadership circle. Sebhat has forgotten comrades
he fought alongside for 30 years, let alone those from that time. The beatings
were carried out under the supervision of Solomon Woldemariam, who personally
inflicted and ordered the violence. Naizgi Kiflu was also involved in carrying
out the beatings.
The leadership, including Isaias, never liked
Solomon, whom they considered a scoundrel. There was internal disagreement
within the leadership, and the Menkae crisis was used as an excuse to settle
scores. They accused Solomon of being a regionalist and isolated him. Musie and
others defended him, questioning why he was being singled out. He was
manipulated into believing that the Menkae were using him to seize power,
turning him into their adversary. He was made head of Halewa Sewra (the
Security Apparatus) and took charge of ordering and carrying out the killings
of the Menkae members. Eventually, he too was eliminated and died a horrible
death.
Isaias gave Solomon free rein to commit atrocities, knowing that he would later use Salomon’s actions against him. After Solomon had spilled much innocent blood, Isaias portrayed him as the chief executioner and blamed him for the crimes, distancing himself from the violence.
Due to these actions, people began to lose
faith in the revolution, seeing that Isaias was placing his handpicked
individuals in key positions. Solomon, despite seeming composed and agreeable
on the surface, was in reality a harsh and ruthless individual. We disliked him
because he was responsible for the deaths of so many people and acted as a
staunch regionalist. Whatever Isaias initiated, Solomon followed. It was as if
they shared a mutual understanding, despite appearing to dislike each other.
Later, Teklai Aden was brought into the Central
Committee. His arrival intimidated others, and he even began confronting and
beating Solomon. It all seemed like a staged drama. Anyone who sought the truth
ended up dead. Teklai was aware of the Menkae movement but was too afraid to
join it. Having spent several years in Aden, he spoke Arabic, unlike us who
were from Asmara. He was a university student and had read many books. He rose
from being a Hayli leader to the Central Committee after the Guba-e,
but with little support, as he had not yet matured politically.
Others were also quickly brought into the
Central Committee. Eventually, Teklai was made head of Halewa Sewra
(Security Apparatus) and began using his authority. He was known to be a
drinker and a womanizer. He lived in Dekemhare until he was recalled to Sahel
to lead Halewa Sewra. He frequently clashed with other leadership
members like Ali Said Abdella and Duru, engaging in heated arguments. It’s
unclear what his disagreements with Isaias were, but his true character soon
surfaced, and he was accused of corruption. This was during the mizlak(retreat)
period, a time of intense scrutiny
and purging.
There were reports that Isaias rebuked him
(referred to as "megnahti"), but only they know the details. We only
heard rumours of their disputes. Suddenly, we learned that Teklai had defected
and revealed many secrets. Although we didn’t see his writings or radio
interviews in meda, we assumed the leadership suppressed the information
from reaching lower cadres. It might have circulated abroad, but we were
discouraged from listening to his words.
Duru was not involved in the Menkae
situation—he was imprisoned by the Ethiopians at the time. Haile Menkerios
wasn’t in the leadership then either. I can’t recall who was on the charging
committee, but it was said that Adhanom boycotted the committee. As a result,
he faced retaliation and was marginalized by Shabia.
Solomon clashed with Tewolde Eyob and Asmerom.
Isaias criticized Solomon for making negative comments about them. Musie and
others defended Solomon, arguing that old criticisms shouldn’t matter now.
Musie insisted that Solomon was a democratic person and questioned why he was
being isolated, which led to the meeting ending in disarray. Musie called for
the front to advance democratically and warned against bringing old feuds into
current matters. He urged everyone to observe what was happening.
During another meeting, Musie criticized Tsegai
Keshi for walking out, saying that meetings were not like handkerchiefs (mendil)
that one could pick up and leave as they wished. Tsegai retaliated by hitting
Musie, and the meeting descended into chaos. Musie was sent to the clinic while
Tsegai was temporarily detained under military rules. At the time, I was new to
the training center where the clinic was located, and three days later, Musie
rejoined us.
We were all stationed by the same riverbank.
Fighters would often come to speak with us, and that’s when I saw Musie for the
first time—his head bandaged. Fighters were sometimes made to dig, told it was
for planting trees or building latrines, but once enough trenches were dug,
they themselves were executed and buried there. Some were shot by the
riverbanks. We were told an “investigation” had been conducted, but we had no
evidence. Because we didn’t know all the fighters personally, we sometimes
didn’t realize who was taken away from us.
The Menkae case drew attention because they
were well-known fighters and political cadres, visible within the military for
their activities. When we saw them being taken away, it became known that they
were being sent to Halewa Sewra. With no further news, it was understood
that they were executed. There was no need to create additional noise to
silence the killings. In such isolated areas, a gunshot could be attributed to
hunting apes, snakes, or birds, or even testing new weapons. Hearing shots
didn’t necessarily raise alarms.
During a fierce battle with Ethiopian forces
from late December to mid-January, as the military in Ethiopia revolted against
Haile Selassie, Ethiopian troops launched an offensive into Sahel. Five
fighters, including Amr and Alem Negassi, who had joined only three months
prior, were martyred. The others I remember were Haile and Osman Drei. We were
told the outcome: five martyrs, several wounded, and a difficult fight amid
food shortages, but that Ethiopia had lost its morale. A short note was read to
us to inform us of these losses.
The Menkae were executed in Bleqat. After
moving from Gereger to Bleqat, an uninhabited area near Algena, which later
became an Ethiopian military base captured by us under Adhanom Gebre Mariam’s
command, rumors of their executions began to spread. Some Menkae members
managed to escape from the prison. The ELF later claimed that Menkae members
were killed and shared this information in seminars and gatherings. On January
23, 1977, during a conference, the ELF announced their executions. Until then,
we hadn’t known the full extent of what had happened. While we were engaged in
battles, many details were kept from us.
After the Menkae episode, Halewa Sewra
became fully operational. I first read Isaias’s document Destructive
Movement in 1976, but I don’t know when it was originally released. We
learned about it publicly only after being educated as cadres during the 5th Zuria (batch).
Each Zuria consisted of 150 to 200 fighters gathered from various Haylitat
and Kifletat units for cadre education.
Mesfin Hagos was one of the top leaders at the
time, and nothing happened without his approval. Isaias was the chairman, with
other members including Mesfin, Solomon, Tewolde Eyob (later killed as part of
the Menkae), and Asmerom Gerezghier. From the PLF1 leadership were Ali Said
Abdella, Ramadan Hamed Nur, and others whose names are less known. Alamin and
others were chosen as committee members to oversee the Menkae executions. If
all this comes to light, it will lead to a reckoning and backlash (tewatet, sahabo
guteto). The committee consisted of six to seven members, and leaders like
Mesfin were at the top, bearing significant responsibility.
Tewelde Eyob, a courageous member of the
leadership, was ultimately killed despite never signing off on the executions.
He advocated for resolving the situation democratically. When others labeled
the Menkae movement as destructive, Tewelde disagreed, saying, "This is a
conflict, not a destructive movement. We can guide them back on track; this
isn’t a criminal matter." Yet, he was accused of being against Shabia
and was eliminated.
The Menkae movement began in September, but
Isaias only acknowledged it in January. There was a lost paper written by
Tewelde Eyob that stated, "At the Adobha meeting, we condemned the ELF for
killing our youth. This will be our eternal condemnation; the situation must be
democratically resolved." As a result, Tewelde was accused of being a
Menkae sympathizer, secretly removed from his leadership position, imprisoned
in June or July of 1974, and executed like the rest of the Menkae. Everyone knew
he had been killed—no secret stays hidden forever. Some of these secrets are
revealed through whispers among the leaders.
Goitom Bisay, who was initially appointed as a
mediator in the first committee to study the conflict, declared that the Menkae
had valid points and that the proceedings were flawed. He was consequently
labeled as a Menkae supporter, stripped of his responsibilities, and
disappeared. It was rumored that he was writing a book for the front and
translating documents before his disappearance.
Wedi Fenkil was a well-known fighter, and Dr.
Bemnet, a Menkae suspect, was from Addis and attended the cadre school. He had
asked about the Menkae situation, which raised suspicion. Though I never met
him, it was said that he detonated a bomb, killing himself. He had attended the
same school as Yohannes and Musie and sought clarification on the movement.
This led to him being closely monitored and then disappearing. Often, when
someone tried to escape, it was later reported that they "killed themselves"
or "died while attempting to flee," even if they were well-liked.
After 1973, we were discouraged from asking
questions about our comrades or ourselves. When a fellow fighter was taken
away, we remained silent. New recruits were told about the Menkae as a
cautionary tale. Anyone seen reading Marx, Lenin, or Mao was immediately viewed
with suspicion and assumed to be a Menkae sympathizer. Consequently, many
stopped reading out of fear. Unlike us, the ELF embraced both the weapon and
the book. Many fighters pretended to be uneducated to avoid the fate of those
who were targeted for their intellectual curiosity.
During the struggle, it was not safe to write
or speak out against Shabia. While the ELF published much against Shabia,
we dismissed their writings, believing them to be full of lies. As Shabia
accused ELF of being a feudal group incapable of liberating Eritrea, we too
belittled them. Some of the ELF’s claims were exposed as fabrications, leading
us to distrust everything else they said.
Haile Selassie Gebremedhin, a highly educated
leader of the Menkae, was arrested by the Ethiopians in Ala in 1970. His family
managed to secure his release by bribing officials and claiming that he had
planned to surrender. He questioned why the Menkae movement was being treated
so negatively and suggested that it should be analysed and understood, sharing
his thoughts with Isaias. Many fighters who initially supported the movement
switched sides when the imprisonments began. Alongside Haile were John,
Afwerki, Tareke, Russom Amma, Dehab Aberash, Werku, and Debesai G. Mikel—Debesai
was taken from the frontlines later than the others.
Some managed to escape from prison. I recall
one fighter named Wedi Blatta, also known as Mayila Tsenadegle, who joined the
ELF after escaping and was martyred in battle. It was said he revealed many
secrets, which might be documented in the ELF archives. Abraham Tewelde died
three years before the Derg came to power. I had heard he was a brave man.
Haile Jebha, one of the Menkae torturers, was later killed for his brutality.
Teklai Aden joined after the Menkae period had ended.
As prisoners, we weren’t kept together in a
typical cell. Instead, we were ordered to build a fenced enclosure, similar to
one used for livestock, and were held there. I can’t remember all the names of
those involved—only the leadership and a few familiar faces remain in my
memory. Fighters were taken away from the frontlines and never seen again. When
fighters from Addis or abroad arrived, having heard about the Menkae
executions, and inquired about it, they were viewed suspiciously and often made
to disappear as well.
Petros Yohannes began raising questions from
the United States, asking why fighters were being imprisoned for demanding
democracy and what made the Menkae different from ELF. He questioned why Shabia
split from the ELF if democratic principles were a problem. Though I never met
him, he was said to be a brilliant person. Word spread that Petros Yohannes had
entered meda from the U.S. and was killed. It was rumoured that he was
detained under the guise of being invited for work in meda. Another
example is Meriam Hagos, who was invited to meda to see the progress of
the struggle but was forced to stay until the end. No one knows what happened
to people like them.
Although we never saw them, we heard rumors.
The truth has a way of coming out, with people saying, "So-and-so was
taken away and killed," just as it happened to those who came from the
U.S. Even now, the situation remains the same. Those who disappeared are never
spoken of openly; they are simply erased from history, and their stories remain
untold.
Top of Form
Bottom of Form
After liberation, Bitweded was initially
appointed as the administrator of Assab. Later, he was arrested, and although
everyone knew about his imprisonment, no one has ever officially questioned his
case. Some claim he was accused of theft, while others say it was because he
refused Isaias’s orders to send goods to Ethiopia, insisting that they belonged
to Eritrea and demanding written orders as proof. It’s said that Bitweded dared
to challenge Isaias. Another rumour suggests he was accused of smuggling goods
to Ethiopia, and when the fighters involved were caught, they blamed him,
saying it was on his orders. As a result, they were released, and he was
detained in their place. To this day, no one knows the true reason why Bitweded
has been imprisoned for 13 long years.
It’s understandable that people inside Eritrea
are afraid to ask questions, but what about those abroad? They have also been
systematically silenced. The message was clear: “You can’t enter Eritrea—Shabia’s
reach is long, and it will find you.” When I first came here and started
speaking out against Shabia, people began to avoid me, even those I had
known for many years. They told me I was already considered a condemned man by
the government, and they feared being associated with me.
People are afraid of being imprisoned in
Eritrea simply for being seen in my company. It’s obvious at gatherings like
funerals—they stare at me, and when I look back, they avert their eyes, even
those loyal to Higdef. False reports and rumors are spread about us,
especially in a democratic country like the USA. What does democracy mean if we
can’t ask questions? What does it mean to have fought for so many years, to see
comrades martyred or to become disabled, only to be treated this way?
I fought for my country to see a free and
democratic government, a country where everyone can live freely. That’s why I
chose to speak out. Who should be the truly free person? It should be all the
people, with equal rights. Those who fought for their country should not be
regarded as enemies.
Testimonies on the so-called Menkae Movement: Adhanom Fitwi
Interviewed by Aida Kidane Holland 14.10.04
Aida Kidane: Can you tell me about
your experience?
Adhanom Fitwi: True, many think I'm an Eritrean Liberation Front (ELF or Jebha)
member. It is because when I left the field (Meda) from the
Eritrean People’s Liberation Forces (and Front later, EPLF, or Shaebea);
I did not sit idle and immediately joined with the ELF. When I fled from the
EPLF in 1977, people who are at similar situation like me either continued
supporting the EPLF norms, or kept themselves shut up. It is very
few who continued opposing the EPLF after they leave. In fact, I started being
against EPLF already from 1974.
When I joined the EPLF in 1974, the Menkae movement
had already started in September 1973, and I found the leaders of Menkae in
prison. I was a student at the Addis Ababa University and we knew nothing about
the Menkae. Very few people knew of it. And in the field
immediately we were suspected without justification of sympathizing with
the Menkae movement - because we came from Addis Ababa
University. This made us concerned.
Discussing about the Menkae movement
in the field at mid-70s and later was forbidden. I was naïve then and when I
started asking why we cannot discuss, a comrade, who now resides in England,
told some people who knew me that I should be careful not to mention the Menkae movement.
And it baffled me and others – why? , and why it was forbidden to talk about
the Menkae movement?
Solomon Woldemariam told us why the Menkae movement
leaders were imprisoned? He said that they had no political causes. He also
said, the women members of Menkae were baking cakes for the
men, killing lice off their heads, were having sex with them, etc. His words
shocked us and how could such anti-women words come out from Shaebea,
a Marxist oriented progressive front. We became disillusioned.
Later, meeting or seeing former Addis
University students in the field became a rarity, unless they were connected
with the EPLF leadership, otherwise they were taken away being accused as a
member of this and that movement and affiliations.
I remember, there was Dawit (??) who joined the
front after 2nd or 3rd year law school in Addis Ababa and he became completely
against us, that we suspected him to be tied with the leadership. Character
assassination was made on those they suspected. In 1976,
almost all units were gathered and though we had thought the Menkae movement
had died out, many were being picked and taken. People like Tesfai Temnew were
imprisoned. I have seen the names list and because I joined
the EPLF after the movement, I cannot say who was who on their
personality. But I had asked thoroughly of the movement and I know a
lot.
I met Goitom Berhe (Bitsay) and Alem
Abraha before they were executed. Alem was my superior. Goitom was sent to
Nakfa area, of Tigre speaking area with only one rank (MesRie) of 8
members and actually he did not speak Tigre language. Then he was confined
there for some time. And there he wrote an article 'Who is the
revolutionary?' handwritten in 30 pages. I and Alem Abraha read it at
night with kerosene lamp, though it was forbidden to read the article. About
two weeks from then, Goitom was taken away and never seen again. Alem Abraha
was soon taken and killed. He was one of the long-served fighters, with Sebhat
Efrem etc, a leader of our squad (fesli). I had heard he was from or
around Dekemhare city.
Aida Kidane: Was the Menkae Movement
a regionalist or a sub-national movement? And what did you hear about the
beginning?
Adhanom Fitwi: When Solomon Woldemariam told us of this movement, the
leadership said it was a regionalist action (allege with mainly emphasis on
Akele Guzai district). And Alem Abraha asked where do they want to send
Afeworki Teclu (Amhray) then? And also the others from Serae and Hamasien
districts? We knew that the members of the Menkae movement
composed of all the districts of Tigrinya speaking highlands. We were questioning
the leadership’s aims.
At the beginning of the Menkae movement,
Solomon Woldemariam was at first with the Menkae movement. The
initial issue that brought the Menkae movement was that the
three members of the Selfi-Nasnet EPLF leadership – Solomon
Woldemariam, Tewelde Eyob and Asmerom Gerezghier were in no friendly terms.
Those Menkae leaders like Mussie Tesfamichael, Yohannes
Sebahtu (John), and others said we came to this front of its progressiveness
and democratic aspirations and the leadership is fighting against each other?
Let us work and make them reconcile. This was the main reason and even Isaias
admits to it, and the leadership agreed. In the meeting, the core leadership,
with Isaias, accused Solomon Woldemariam of regionalism. Solomon was from
Hamasien district. And at that time according to the internal laws of EPLF,
though there was no constitution or written laws, a regionalist was to be
executed. Mussie, Yohannes and their friends said why waste the life of such a
veteran fighter? To eradicate regionalism it is better to enlighten and educate
for a solution. The situation became violent when Tsegai Keshi who died latter
from inhalation of lice insecticide, hit Mussie with his rifle butt. Tsegai
Keshi was in the highest military rank, being leader of platoon (Haili),
since the EPLF had not formed battalion yet.
Tsegai Keshi was not reprimanded for his
actions and this had consequences and concern that fighters should be treated
equally. Isaias had once hit Temesgen Berhe and in a gathering with
us Isaias admitted to it, stating that he saw him sleeping by a river bank
when there was a civil skirmish and after he sent him to deliver bullets, and
he angrily hit Temesgen.
The Menkae group stated then
that a fighter should be treated equally, not looked or punished as a shepherd.
And civilians coming to join us were dying in 20s by thirst etc. No human life
should be regarded cheap, they said. Why civilians were beaten, they asked.
Many questions were raised close to 400 questions and opinions, which were then
combined to 13 big demands. The situation was getting bigger.
Then without the initiatives of Mussie,
Yohannes, Afeworki and Co., the committee was extended to 36 members, to solve
the widened disagreements. This brought the question of leadership policies and
the rights of EPLF fighters. Then the method of solving the disagreements
changed courses.
Isaias and the core leadership held a meeting
and the disagreeing members - Solomon, Tewelde Eyob and Asmerom Gebrezghier
were made to forgive each other. When the forgiving and reconciliation of the
core leadership was announced, the other members now said - all right it is
good, but we have other problems and others have to solve them. Isaias,
without the consent of the other participants then ordered the 36 member
committee to be disbanded.
The tension worsened and the leadership then
decided to bring together all units from all fronts. The cases were told and
all EPLF members agreed that the demands were right, and 95% of the fighters
sided with the Menkae movement. The leadership was isolated
and stayed hidden under ‘Adai' tree (a name of tree). The fighters
said this was a reactionary leadership that cannot solve problems and brought
the front into a mess. Up to this time, Solomon Woldemariam had sided with
the Menkae movement, saying they were right and the issues
should be brought to final conclusion.
Now, after the reconciliation of the core
leadership, he became against Menkae. Before he used to
say that he would bring 4 -500 commandoes of his region and defeat Tewelde Eyob
etc. But now they came to an agreement. Solomon used this situation and told
the Muslims that the Christians wanted to take power, and at the same time
gathered the Karneshim people, writing letters. [As the front of Selfi-Nasnet started
in Alla, in Akele Guzai area, it was natural that most of youths who early
joined will be from that area. And when the movement was into Semenawi Bahri,
it included members of Karneshim youths.]
I believe Mussie, Yohannes, Afeworki and
Co. went too far in their demands. As they saw some people were going away from
their side, they used microphones stating they were not regionalists. Afeworki
Amharay and Co. would not budge from their convictions and became martyrs to
the end. That they used loud speakers was a mistake, we saw. The leadership was
looking for reasons to fail and accuse them and they said - look at these Addis
Ababa University students, are they aware this is a guerrilla front, and not a
student demonstration? And the Menkae movement lost ground.
Aida Kidane: Were the Menkae
Movement demands legitimate? And what other observations did you have? What
about the prisons?
Adhanom Fitwi: The Menkae demands and questions were still
in my time necessary topics and legitimate. I can give instances. Once at end
of 1975, we were attacking Ethiopian Commando forces near Afabet, where we had
battalions, and we did not succeed and lost half of our fighting force there. A
meeting was held after and the topic was about Tigray People’s Liberation Front
(TPLF). EPLF did not have good relationship with them, but with Ethiopian
People’s Revolutionary Party (EPRP). We the educated ones asked questions why
the EPRP did not state that the Eritrean question was a colonial question? Why
the EPRP have opportunistic stand? The TPLF gathered in Tsorona and stated it
was a colonial question, a smart move on their part. I raised several
questions, and spoke carefully not to suspect to be a Menkae and
my question was similar to theirs. Berhane Gebrezghier was tactician (teketatali
mela) previously of our battalion, and Ali Ibrahim, a former Obel member
who had fled to Osman Sabbe and then back to us was our battalion leader. He
was replaced by Hasan Amor from the Red Sea people.
Berhane was Isaias' right-hand man and had all
the power and he said in front of all the fighters that what Adhanom Fitwi (I)
expressed as question was of the Menkae type. There was nobody
to defend me but myself. Once someone is implicated with the Menkae,
everyone alienates that person, so not to be suspected. Now when
difficulty came upon us, we started to question how the Menkae were
treated. Tesfai Temnew was a battalion leader and a brilliant person. He left
the front and went to Saudi Arabia. He and his likes were explaining to us how
the Menkae movement started and the details.
Even though the EPLF was supposed to be a
democratic split of the ELF, we were undemocratically progressing from 1970 to
the end of 1976. The Obel group didn’t change and they were as they came; the
Sabbe group with Romadan and Mesfin Hagos from Dankalia etc were not changed,
though more fighters had joined.
We demanded that even the ELF are holding
congress and why not us, and why not elect our leaders democratically? Now we
are sitting being considered between ELF and Menkae sympathizers.
The rightists (Yemaniyn in Arabic) were accused as regionalists and the leftists (Tsegamai)
were accused as radicals. This is a contradiction in itself and one has to come
to that point one time or another. No body was questioning the
leadership, and doing that, one is unquestionably taken to Halewa Sewra (Revolutionary
Guards). Even an educated person who knows or didn’t know Menkae has
to attack the Menkae movement. Whenever the matter is raised
in discussions it has become a norm saying the Menkae were
opportunists trying to damage our front. Else the person is targeted as their
sympathizer.
Aida Kidane; How where the Menkae sentenced? And how did you hear about the verdict?
Adhanom Fitwi: I had seen Worku Zerai in Nakfa when re-shuffling (Tekhlit) was made. She was with Kifle Hizbi (public relations). The Menkae prisoners were in Bleqat. There were 5 prisons from 1973 until I left in 1977. All the 5 prisons were in Sahel area. The biggest one was in Bleqat, one in Algain, and one in Fah. Fah was a secured place and the leadership moved there as it had only one entry and the youth (manjus) guarded it well that no one could slip inside. They were very large prisons.
For the Menkae, if I'm not
mistaken, a military court with those like Mesfin Hagos sentenced them. Apart
from the Menkae, countless others were made to disappear, also
counting those who bombed themselves. Those who made suicide are told to put
down their arms and follow. Meaning they will be horribly imprisoned, and
instead they decide to blow themselves up. The disappeared ones were countless.
In 1976 there was the Second Menkae purge; the forces were
getting fewer and fewer fighters.
The fighters of 1973 were considerably fewer
than of 1976. Had the conflict, arrests and death been publicly done with; nobody
would have questioned. But the happenings were too secretive and become
suspicious. The fighters felt that while they were sacrificing their life, why
they were not informed of the happenings. Those who were brave and asked were
not seen again. When a person is taken to Halewa Sewra,
the person disappears. There was a prison guard confessing later,
guarding Mussie and Co., - the lice were so many that a bullet was preferred. A
prisoner cannot by himself scratch or move himself because he was beaten for
that action. It was such a hot weather that the lice should not have survived
but spread more in contrast. The Menkae leaders and members
suffered much. Some fighters on their way to bring water saw Mussie and Co.,
and said they were unrecognizable, living skeletons and eyes bulging out.
Though food was scarce all around, the prisoners were full of lice, tortured and
least fed.
The EPLF leadership told us about their
executions publicly before or after the time of the EPLF Congress. Berhane Gerezghier
who was our tektatali mela did not gather us in battalions as
supposed to, but in small platoons. Our patriotism was strong and seen
suspiciously to have been Menkaeized. They placed machine guns at
mountain and hill- tops unnecessarily fearing of an uprising, guarding us by
their trusted fighters from other platoons. They said a big decision has been
made, the highest decision, and when they told us about the fate of the Menkae leaders,
there was no support or opposing voice whatsoever. I was sitting and scratching
the ground with a stick and Berhane Gerezghier looking at me said why don't you
people respond than scratch the ground?
The only way of fleeing from the front was via
ELF. Many EPLF members were caught fleeing and were
executed. When it was said that they were given their dues, it
meant killed. And they would be gunned down (not throats cut as Memhir Tesfu
said in 17.4.04 in paltalk). An instance, when a decision was made on the 30
and more, it was beginning of 1975 while I was in training. Because end of 1975
we were up in Nakfa area.
In training, we went away from the river to the slopes to gather wood; we heard sounds of machine guns. We wondered if their guns were malfunctioning and one fighter told me once that it was executions being done. Also when they were tortured in Bleqat, since we were first there in training in our platoon, the young members -Menajus- used to play drums near the Halewa Sewra. The noise was made so that we would not hear the tortures as we were near it. The prisoners were interrogated and tortured at nights. It was terrible times and Solomon Woldemariam was the head.
While Amnesty Intl searches for crimes against
humanity world-wide, they did not find the atrocities of Bleqat. The torturers
were dedicated ones and from the uneducated population.
Aida Kidane: What about Solomon WoldeMariam?
Adhanom Fitwi: Solomon Woldemariam and Isaias had very big differences and
Isaias feared Solomon’s power. Solomon at that time was security head and head
of Halewa Sewra, of training center, of the enemy lines, army front leader, of
Central command. Isaias was only of front and chairman in name only; he was
not that powerful as Solomon. It was the power of Solomon who crushed the Menkae movement.
He came to power because of his experiences in military and ability. He put his
trusted men in positions in all ranks up to brigade, battalion leaders. This
power concerned Isaias.
In the first cadre graduation in Semanawi
Bahri, Haile Woldetinsae (Durue) was the head instructor who we did not
differentiate from Isaias and he called Solomon worthless. Because Durue was
totally Isaias’ yes man, and his right hand man. Durue was in prison in
the Menkae uprising. He did not try to solve later. Solomon's
men had been in the cadre school after Menkae purges. Solomon
was biding for his power against Isaias and sent rumors that Isaias had said
the Menkae case should have been solved democratically. Since
Solomon had more powerful officers though Isaias was the chairman, Solomon's
men said Isaias himself can be charged and put into prison. It had gone that
far, and this reached to the ears of Isaias, and their relationship began
getting worse.
Issaias is a very smart person and told Solomon
Woldemariam - Osman Sabbe had closed our incomes and may close the Sudan route.
We may be forced to give ourselves up to the Ethiopians, which are horrible,
and you are the best suited person to go there and solve the problem. Secondly,
Issaias added to Solomon, that his health was disturbing the EPLF leadership
and he wanted him to get medication in the meantime. Solomon had liver problem.
Solomon was a naïve (gerhi) person. Solomon thought he must be an
important person that Issaias is concerned about his health, and he went to
Port Sudan as advised by Issaias. He was at the office and started medication
and city life suited him. No supporter of Solomon was allowed to travel to
Sudan then, in front of our eyes. Solomon was now sent to Port Sudan. Solomon
was later charged of being a Yemin or rightist and he
disappeared.
Immediately, it was said that being anti Menkae and being Yemin was destructive to the front and all supporters of Solomon, leaders of brigades, battalions etc were imprisoned. These were put together with the Menkae left-overs. We became confused who the faulty party was. Menkae and anti-Menkaes were imprisoned together. Solomon's supporters now realized the game played by Isaias, but it was too late.
It is worth commenting that the EPLF first
Congress supposedly to have been the first principled and democratic, was
completely undemocratic. First, anyone suspected with Menkae or
the Yemin was not to be elected, meaning only Issaias' people
were to be elected. The congress was preconditioned and Issaias' people were
the nominators. The leadership was nine members with Solomon, and the 8
continued in the leadership with some new ones added to them. And the Central
Committee became 36 people. Then Solomon realized the game played up on him. He
had studied to 10th grade and was brilliant militarily, though
not politically. It was feared then that after being demoted, Solomon might
shoot Issaias. Solomon was asked about his opinion on the First Congress. He
said in the Congress 'I, Solomon, brought this front to this stage - and there
- you are… who are more knowledgeable - so you lead'.
Solomon was leading one ganta or
two in Keren region, and they did not let him to go to Kebessa and he said '
This Tigrayan has lured me' meaning Issaias, we heard later. Claims that Issaias
was of Tigrayan origin, it was only then from Solomon that we heard. Nobody
knows how deep their disagreement was. Issaias used to make comrades enemies of
each other, even after entering Asmara he made Durue, Petros Solomon, Sebhat,
and Sherifo dislike each other and not cooperate. It was tactic used by
Issaias. He would tell one of the leaders, he is a good fighter but keep away
from that scoundrel (another leader). And he tells the same to the other leader
making both sides suspicious of each other. Earlier, he would easily have
solved the disagreements between Solomon, Asmerom and Tewolde Eyob. They were
in leadership and they ignored each other. They were later nine in leadership,
from the Obel like Abu Tyara and Abu Ejal. Romadan Mohammed Nur and Mesfin
Hagos etc were from Shaebea who were more in numbers. Solomon,
Issaias, Tewolde Eyob, Asmerom etc were from Selfi-Natznet group.
Aida Kidane: What about the death of
Tewolde Eyob one of the leaders of Selfi-Natsenet?
Adhanom Fitwi: The
killing of Tewolde Eyob was baffling. Because he said the verdict against Menkae was
not correct and should have been solved democratically – that became the reason
of his execution. He was also charged of being a regionalist. It surprised us
because even if he was from Akele Guzai region, it was not a correct cause of
his demise. All fighters were sacrificing their life for the country, not a
region. We later saw, the same content; Solomon was accused of regionalism
also. He himself with Issaias had accused the Menkae of
regionalism and he was charged of it. Bistay Goitom said
all issues are mingled and regionalism was not a case.
And joining the ELF?
Adhanom Fitwi: I started exposing EPLF right after I fled through the ELF. We used to think that the ELF bullets could not kill the enemy. We fighters of EPLF were brainwashed that the 'Ama' were not fighting for liberation. When I met the ELF, I was most astonished how bad I was brainwashed. The Das Capital of Karl Marx that we read in Addis Ababa was only two volumes inside the EPLF and we were snatching from each other to read them. I saw about 16 volumes of Das Capital with the ELF and their library in the field. I told the ELF the political education I got from EPLF was from brilliant leftists and reading in no battle times.
When Osman Sabbe left the EPLF, and my
platoon were in Nakfa, there was scarcity of materials. Issaias' theory must
have been to oppress the EPLF fighting army, because in the department they
were eating meat etc. We, in the armed forces (Hailitat), ate one loaf
of bread for seventeen men and ate vegetables that our urine was colored. We
were almost naked except for the females. We then sent one platoon to Ruba (river) Anseba as EPLF was not established in Barka area. This platoon
continued to Barka as the civil war had subsided then. The ELF felt very sorry
for the destitute fighters and gave the whole EPLF Haili cloths
and food. But we said that 'Ama' was giving us what was due
ours originally, we did not thank them.