Not all scholarship is worth the name, as this week’s
Pankhurst’s Corner explains. Bigotry, racial prejudice and sheer
ignorance are reflected in the writing on Ethiopia by an otherwise
accomplished artist. Enjoy this rather unique fourth installment of
Professor Pankhurst’s running series of chronicles and other
literature on Ethiopia. Captain Harris: Poor Author;
Good Artist
There is no doubt about it. In my opinion, dear reader, Captain
William Harris, the first British envoy to Shawa - in the early
1840's was a poor author - and may also have been a poor diplomat.
Historical Notes on Books 4
King Sahle Sellase
The story begins, I suppose, on 28 June 1840, when King Sahle Sellase
entrusted the Rev. J.L. Krapf of the London-based Church Missionary
Society with a letter to Queen Victoria. This letter exists only
in an English translation, which declares, in part:
"About your happiness I am informed from your countrymen who
come into my country and spoke with me about your welfare and greatness
when I was informed about your kindness towards all men. I was much
rejoiced and determined to make friendship with you. As to myself
if my person is good or bad you will have been informed about by
your countrymen, having been in my country. Well then, I wish very
much that you may please to make friendship with me".
Coming to the guts of the matter, he continues:
"God has given me a good and large Kingdom but Arts and Sciences
are not yet come into my country as they are in yours. Therefore
you may please to assist me in this request. The thing you may assist
me is in sending Guns, cannons and other things which are not to
be got in my counry. I do not venture to fix how much you may send
me of these things; you may act according to your kindness which
is known everywhere…"
No ambiguity, you will see, as to what the King has on his mind.
Captain Harris
In response to this letter the British Government dispatched a large
diplomatic mission, led by Captain W.C.Harris, which brought many
fine presents, and negotiated a Treaty of Amity and Commerce on
18 November 1841.
The British Mission was however far from a success. This is evident
from a today little known Amharic letter which Sahle Sellase dispatched
to Harris a year or so after the latter's arrival.
Written with ambiguity - and some delicacy, it declares, in English
translation:
"Having resided in my country a whole year, you have observed
my behaviour and I have observed your behaivour. I have found nothing
in you other than love, though I do not know whether I have been
unfair to you. Having seen your good disposition, I have not till
today ordered you to depart. But since you have today informed me
concerning the departure of Garim Sahim [apparently a trader connected
with the British Mission], there is enmity in love and love in enmity,
and I have told you to leave lest you should hate me or I should
hate you, do not hate me for this, my brother" - see David
Appleyard and others, Letters from Ethiopian Rulers, p. 149
Subtly written as it was the gist of the letter was quite clear:
Ferenge, Go home!
Scarcely a successful outcome of the Mission, you must admit.
The Highlands of Aethiopia
Harris, on duly returning to London, wrote his famous three-volume
account of his Mission: The Highlands of Aethiopia, which appeared
in 1844. Its author thought most highly of this work: Regarding
it as something of a literary masterpiece, he dedicated it to "The
Queen's most Excellent Majesty", i.e. Queen Victoria. Perhaps
significantly he did not however trouble to include in his book
the text of the Treaty he signed on her behalf.
Harris, who was highly ethnocentric as well as something of a racist,
had little admiration for the king who had signed his Treaty, or
his people. Writing of Sahle Sellase, whom he terms "the Reigning
Despot", he observes:
"A most singular contrast of good and evil was perhaps never
presented in the person and administration of the Christian despot.
Avarice, suspicion, caprice, duplicity, and superstition, appear
to form the basis of his chequered character, and every act exhibits
a proportion of meanness and selfishness, linked with a desire to
appear munificent".
Harris went on to state that the king's tent at Angolalah was "infested"
with "dirty pages troublesome idlers". His account of
the great market town of Harar is no less critical. He writes of
the "swaggering" soldier, the "wild Galla",
the local peasant, "greasy and offensive in person and in habits",
the Muslim followers of the "false prophet", the "surly"
Adal, with his "murderous" knife, and the "wily huckster"
of Harar, whose trading was based on "the exercise of knavery".
The "Abyssinian fiddle", or local violin, Harris tells
us, had a "squeaking voice", and its "unharmonious
sounds" produced no less than "harsh screams and moans",
as well as other "tortures".
The Ethiopian woman does not escape the author's pen. We’re
told that she too often lacks "even the smallest portion of
those feminine attractions which in other climes form the charm
of her sex".
Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion, but such derogatory
remarks fail to convey a meaningful picture of the people, institutions
or instruments criticised.
To see the weakness in Harris's approach we should turn to the two-volume
work of his compatriot and contemporary, Charles Johnston, whose
Travels in Southern Abyssinia was published in the same year 1844.
Look for example at Johnston's very informative descriptions of
traditional Ethiopian handicrafts, traditional dress, and jewellery,
as well as medicine and surgery.
Harris as Artist
Captain Harris was also an interesting artist. He had received his
artistic training at the British East India Company's Military Seminary
at Addiscombe House at Croydon, South London. There he studied military
and civil drawing, as well as mathematics, Latin, French, Hindustani,
and other subjects.
He drew many drawings during his stay in Ethiopia. Some were duly
reproduced as engravings in his Highlands of Aethiopia; others in
his much rarer Illustrations to the Highlands of Aethiopia, which
appeared in the following year 1845.
What is exciting today is that Harris's original drawings have recently
come to light. They were in the possession of Quintin Keynes (1921-2003),
a dedicated British bibliophile and member of the Royal Asiatic
Society, whom I had the pleasure to meet on several occasions.
These pictures are currently on display at the Fitzwilliam Museum,
in Cambridge, England - and will be on view there until 20 January
2008: go there if you can! These drawings are the subject also of
a magnificent illustrated catalogue, prepared by Quintin Keynes's
nephew Professor Simon Keynes.
Harris's paintings, which are ethnologically far from unconvincing,
are invaluable in that they cover a wide range of subjects. They
include remarkable views of Ethiopian scenery, and its forests and
other vegetation; portraits of King Sahle Selasse, and pictures
of his court; battle-scenes, and scenes of the army on review; pictures
of the offensive and defensive weapons then in use; military decorations:
and male and female clothing, and hair styles, etc, etc.
All this seems to bring old-time Ethiopia alive!
Our appeal to the British Embassy and the British Council, both
in Addis Ababa, as well as to all concerned authorities, is to bring
this fascinating Exhibition to Ethiopia,
There is a lot to be learnt from it.
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