Menilek’s challenge to Yohannes began soon after he returned in 1865 to Shawa from his ten-year captivity in Maqdala. He had inherited an area of relative prosperity, and it also had a tradition of strong autocratic leadership. With this secure base, he began to expand to the north, partly because this was a natural line of expansion at the time and partly to enhance his credentials for the throne. In the process, he founded the town of Warra Illu, north of the border between Shawa and Wallo. His expansion was challenged locally by Mastawat, one of the rulers of Wallo, and later by her son Amade Liban (alias Abba Wataw), and nationally by Emperor Yohannes himself. Soon, Wallo developed into a bone of contention between the emperor and Menilek. But they did not come into a direct clash over it. Instead they fought the war through the surrogates they had groomed from the two rival houses of Wallo: Abba Wataw for Yohannes and Muhammad Ali for Menilek. In the early 1870s, however, Yohannes was too absorbed in the Egyptian menace to give any meaningful help to his candidate. Towards the end of 1875, therefore, Menilek successfully captured the stronghold of Maqdala, imprisoned Abba Wataw and appointed Muhammad Ali as governor of Wallo.
Yohannes’s victories over the invading Egyptians at Gundat (1875) and Gura (1876), both near the Marab river where it turns north into what is now Eritrea, changed the situation. In the aftermath of the battles, Yohannes moved south to deal with a problem that had been nagging him since his coronation, but which he had never previously had the time to solve. With the adroitness which was to be the hallmark of his political career, Muhammad Ali shifted allegiance from Menilek to the more powerful emperor. Yohannes kept on pushing southwards, determined to solve the problem of Menilek once and for all. In January 1878, he entered the district of Manz, in north-west Shawa. Menilek gave the order for mobilization. There were even some minor clashes, after which Menilek retreated to Leche. It was there that, urged by his advisers, he made his submission; with his supplies dwindling, the emperor was probably not unenthusiastic about a peaceful resolution of the conflict.
The Leche Agreement, as it has come to be known, took place on 20 March 1878, and forms a landmark in the history of the Ethiopian state. It resolved the political uncertainty of the post-Tewodros period. Yohannes’s suzerainty was unequivocally recognized, and in very dramatic circumstances indeed. In the formal ceremony of submission, Menilek had to carry the traditional stone of penitence and prostrate himself in front of his overlord, as the azmari (minstrels) chanted songs chiding him for his ambition. The Shawan ruler also agreed to pay annual tribute to the emperor and to provide supplies for the imperial army when it passed through Shawa.
Yet the agreement was also a clear demonstration of the emperor’s liberal approach to the issue of political power, his objective of being a feudal suzerain rather than an absolute autocrat. He left Menilek defeated but not shattered; he made him renounce the title of negusa nagast which he had paraded since the death of Tewodros; but he sanctioned Menilek’s assumption of the title of negus with the following words:
You are accordingly king and master of a land conquered by your forebears; I shall respect your sovereignty if you will be faithful to the agreements decided between us. Whoever strikes your kingdom, strikes me, and whoever makes war on you, makes it on me. You are accordingly my eldest son.
(Marcus, Life and Times, 56)
On Menilek’s side, too, his decision to submit was a mark of his tactical wisdom. Humiliated though he was, he came out militarily intact. The big lesson that he learned from the whole encounter was the need for patience. And, in the following decade, he was to work patiently, but assiduously, for the throne which he had earlier mistakenly thought to be within easy reach. After the Leche Agreement, Wallo was no longer his exclusive preserve. He was reduced to the role of a junior partner to the emperor, who began to subjugate Wallo with extraordinary ruthlessness. But, for Menilek, his frustration in the north was to prove a blessing in disguise. It opened his eyes to the south. His southern campaigns were to provide him with the resources, hence the military power, to pose a more formidable challenge to the throne, so that, when Yohannes died at the Battle of Matamma against the Sudanese Mahdists in March 1889, Menilek’s succession was an almost foregone conclusion.
2.5 Ras Alula Engeda, Emperor Yohannes’s governor of the Marab Melash, and implacable opponent of Italian encroachment, shown in Arab costume, 1887
While Yohannes was content to exercise only indirect control in Gojjam and Shawa, he could not afford to pursue a similar policy in the area most threatened by foreign intrusion – the Marab Melash, the territory north of the Marab river and stretching to the Red Sea. The defection in 1876 of its ruler, Walda-Mikael, to the Egyptian side spelt out the inherent dangers of indirect rule only too clearly. Soon after the Battle of Gura, therefore, Yohannes entrusted the administration of the Marab Melash to his trusted general, Alula Engeda, after promoting him from shalaqa (the Ethiopian army equivalent of major) to ras. Being of humble origin and owing his position entirely to the emperor, Alula showed steadfast loyalty. He executed his task as frontier governor with extraordinary energy and dedication. On the other hand, his meteoric rise provoked the disgruntlement of the Tegrean nobility. One of its members, Dajjach Dabbab Araya, a cousin of the emperor, was to provide as shefta a constant challenge to Alula’s authority on the Massawa coast until his submission in 1888. Walda-Mikael himself did not easily acquiesce in the withdrawal of what he considered as his legitimate rights as governor. From his refuge in Bogos, encouraged and supported by his patrons, the Egyptians, he engaged in constant raids into Hamasen. Finally, in 1879, as Egyptian enthusiasm for his activities waned, Walda-Mikael made his peace with Alula and Yohannes, only to be imprisoned soon after.
Yohannes’s policy of unification had also a religious dimension. In many ways, his religious policy lacked the liberalism and spirit of tolerance that he had shown in the political field. Here again, 1878 was the crucial year. The Leche Agreement in March, marking the apogee of the emperor’s power, was immediately followed by the Council of Boru Meda, which brought to an end the doctrinal controversies that had rent the Orthodox Church since the seventeenth century. At a stroke, therefore, the ideological wings of the Zamana Masafent may be said to have been clipped. In a meeting presided over by the emperor himself, the Tawahedo doctrine was declared as the only doctrine, and adherents of other sects were told to conform. Those who still persisted in their old doctrines were persecuted; one man had his tongue cut out.
Apart from such methods of enforcing orthodoxy, the Council of Boru Meda was generally regarded as a positive measure restoring the unity of the church. The emperor’s prestige accordingly grew. It grew even further when, for the first time in Ethiopian history, he succeeded in bringing four bishops from Egypt. The harsher aspects of Boru Meda in any case soon paled into insignificance in comparison with the intolerance, verging on fanaticism, that Yohannes showed towards Islam: it emerged that he was aiming not only at unity of doctrine, but also at unity of faith. There was no room for Islam in his ideological world. The thrust of his repression was directed against Wallo, the same province which had earlier been the main target of Tewodros’s fury.
The Muslims of Wallo were told to renounce their faith and embrace Christianity or face confiscation of their land and property. The reactions were varied. The political leaders generally acquiesced. Thus, two prominent converts were Muhammad Ali, baptized into the Ethiopian Orthodox Church as Mikael,