The Folly of Cultural Conservatives

  Welcome back to another installment of our Dig Deeper Initiative, where we will explore a book I am sure you will appreciate.   

  In this piece, we will be discussing a short yet thought-provoking book called ሓዲስ አለም፡ የቅኖች እና የደግ አድራጊዎች መኖሪያ. Published in 1925, this fiction was written by a man who is no stranger to most Ethiopians. 

 Given the author’s long list of honorary titles, government posts and published works, it is no wonder he is so well-known. In fact, most historians point to his over 24 published books as well as his many positions in government when making this simple yet powerful point: 

 ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ ወልደ ሥላሴ was an exemplary Ethiopian. 

 But it would be a mistake to only remember ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ for his love of country. And while it is important to acknowledge his devotion to writing and to public service, we should not be sidetracked by his long list of accomplishments.

  Instead, we should pay close attention to how he viewed the society he spent most of his life serving. 

 This piece will try to do this by highlighting his important yet overlooked perspective on our cultural discourse. And what better way is there than discussing a book he wrote nearly a century ago?   

Some Plot Points

 ሓዲስ አለም begins by introducing us to a bright and determined character called ዓወቀ. 

  Born to a farming community in Northern Shoa, ዓወቀ grew up listening to tales of European prosperity. And so, moved by his ambitious and curious personality, he decides to leave Ethiopia to start a life in France. 

  But after living and studying in Paris for 7 years, ዓወቀ decided to return to Ethiopia. We learn that he missed his country; that ዓወቀ’s deep attachment to his community far outweighed the comfortable life he built in Europe. 

As ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ put it: 

“ነገር ግን ማንም ሰው ቢሆን ምንም በውጭ አገር ደስ ቢለው ልቡ ካገሩ አይለይምና ዓወቀ ወደ አገሩ ለመመለስ ያስብ ጀመረ። ይህም አሳቡ እየበረታበት ስለ ሔደ በቶሎ ተነሥቶ ወደ ኢትዮጵያ ተመለሰ።”

 Yet his return was anything but welcoming. 

  ዓወቀ quickly begins to feel a deep rift between him and the community he idolized. His appearance, his mannerisms and his opinions, especially towards certain customs, were not appreciated. Instead, they were seen as a shameful betrayal of his culture. 

  And for every one of his well-reasoned and well-supported opinions, he was met with a response that we hear to this day: 

“ፓሪስ ደርሶ የተመለሰ ሁሉ ራሱ እየዞረ መበላሸቱን እናውቃለን።”

 But this seemingly endless conflict between tradition and non-conformity would, in the end, be resolved. And ዓወቀ’s luck begins to change. 

 The community that labeled and  shunned him begins to see him in a different light. Whether it is his critique of certain religious customs or his objections to other, more secular traditions, ዓወቀ’s ideas no longer seem so foreign. 

Instead, they begin to take root. 

 And so, his intractable countrymen begin to see the error of their ways. His isolation comes to an end and he soon receives the following apology: 

“ዘመዶቹ ባንድነት ተነሥተው ዓወቀ እግር ላይ ወድቀው ማረን ማረን እስከ ዛሬ ድረስ አሳብህን ሁሉ አንቀበልም ብለን በምትሠራው ሥራ ሁሉ በትንሹም በትልቁም ስናሰቃይህ ኖርን።”

  The book concludes with ዓወቀ’s religious and social circles coming together and chastising their misguided leaders. They begin a period of reform that sees the value of examining their customs. They end up appreciating ዓወቀ and his questioning attitude. 

 Leaving the reader with one obvious question: How did a young diaspora, one who had no real influence in his community, achieve this? 

Some Mainstream Misunderstandings

  Now most of our cultural commentators have chosen to overlook this obvious question. 

  Whether you are listening to mainstream discussions about ሓዲስ አለም or reading recent reinterpretations of its themes, this book is usually presented as a religious dispute between two opposing figures. Namely, a western educated and principled ዓወቀ vs. a traditional and authoritative priest called መምሬ ሰባጋዲስ. 

 And in this mainstream understanding, መምሬ ሰባጋዲስ is nearly always presented as a cultural expert. His commanding and disapproving ways are considered typical for a man who is an authority on ተጉለት’s time honored customs. Customs that he not only considers to be popular and righteous but sees as never changing and never being open to scrutiny.  

As you can see in the following quote: 

“መምሬ ሰባጋዲስም ይህን በሰሙ ጊዜ እጅግ ተቆጡ። መቸም ቢሆን እንደዚህ ያለ ሥራ ተሠርቶ አያውቅም። እናንተ የኋላ ልጆች ወደ ፓሪስ መሻገር ከጀመራችሁ ወዲህ የምታመጡት ፈሊጥ ሁሉ ለእኛ አይገባንም።” 

 And so, in this mainstream understanding, ዓወቀ’s principled stand is seen as something that is both singular and brave; and his subsequent exclusion is seen as unjust yet predictable for a man who is going against the values of a whole community. 

 But such readings, especially when they are followed exclusively, can lead to some serious misunderstandings. And whilst ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ does discuss these themes of modernity vs. tradition, religious conservatism vs. religious reform and a questioning outsider vs. an insular community, solely focusing on them can make us overlook some important details.  

  Details that can help us understand why a rigid and overbearing figure like መምሬ ሰባጋዲስ would go on to say this:  

“ከዓወቀ ጋራ መነጋገር ከጀመርሁበት ቀን ወዲህ ያለፈውን ሥራዬን ሁሉ ብመለከተው ከንቱና የከንቱ ከንቱ ሆኖ አገኘሁት።”

Some Overlooked Details

  So, if we wish to understand ዓወቀ’s  sudden change in circumstance, መምሬ ሰባጋዲስ’s complete acceptance of reform and ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ’s view on our cultural discourse, it is time we take a look at these overlooked details. 

  The first detail can be found in the beginning of the book, where a disagreement over a funereal custom turns into a heated confrontation between ዓወቀ and መምሬ ሰባጋዲስ. Another detail can be found in Chapter 6 of the book, where ዓወቀ’s desire for an independent-minded spouse becomes another point of contention. 

  A similarly overlooked yet important detail can be found in Chapter 8, where the issue of divorce becomes yet another source of disagreement between ዓወቀ and his  family members. A final, more revealing, detail can be found in the concluding sections of the book; where መምሬ ሰባጋዲስ’s unbending attitude towards a certain burial custom pushes ዓወቀ to the edge. 

  And it is in these scenes of tense confrontations, enforced conformity and the expectation of cultural continuity that we find what we are looking for. 

  For a perceptive reader might have noticed the small group of clergymen who engage with ዓወቀ’s ideas in an honest and fair way. Or they might have noticed those lively debates taking place between our country’s conservative elements and its more reform minded citizens. Debates that usually went something like this: 

“ከዚህ በኋላ ሁሉም እርስ በርሳቸው ክርክር ገጠሙ። ግማሾቹ ያወቀ አሳብ መልካም ነው አሉ። ግማሾቹ ደግሞ አባቶቻችን እስከ ዛሬ እንዳቆዩን እንኖራለን አሉ። ነገር ግን የተጉለት ሰው ላዩ ቆዳው ሞኝ መስሎ ልቡ እጅግ ብልህ ነውና በየቤታቸው ከገቡ በኋላ ተኝተውም፣ ቆመውም፣ ተቀምጠውም ቢያስቡት የዓወቀ አሳብ እጅግ መልካም ሆኖ ታያቸው።”  

   A similarly discerning reader might have noticed those parents who saw the value of raising a free thinking and assertive daughter; long before ዓወቀ showed up in their lives. Such a reader might have also spotted the vocal cousin who does not agree with the collective outrage being directed towards ዓወቀ. Or they might have picked up on those relatives and church officials that have long championed the idea of change: 

“እስካሁን ድረስ ይህን ነገር ደፍሮ የሚናገረው ሰው ባይገኝ ነው እንጂ የስሕተት ሥራ መሆኑን የየሁላችን ልብ ያውቀዋል።”

Our Forgotten Subculture

  These details, however much they are overlooked, are important because they show us three things. 

  Firstly, they show that ዓወቀ’s questioning attitude is not that foreign to ተጉለት. Given the long list of characters that either shared his ideas or were easily convinced by them, ዓወቀ being labeled as a cultural outsider does not hold much weight. Especially since his opinions are neither unreasonable to ተጉለት’s citizens nor that strange to their sensibilities. 

  Secondly, these details show that መምሬ ሰባጋዲስ is neither an authority on ተጉለት’s customs nor a spokesperson for the cultural attitudes of the entire community. Given the number of citizens, clergymen and church leaders that disagree with his conservative and reactionary ways, መምሬ ሰባጋዲስ’s rigidity should not be mistaken for cultural knowledge. 

   Instead, it should be seen as how ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ intended it to be seen: as the misguided acts of a man who has confused cultural conservatism with cultural expertise. 

 Finally, these details are important because they show that ተጉለት is not a culturally static community. Whether it is the religious conferences, the secular debates or those reflective characters that have long believed in change, ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ makes one thing exceedingly clear. 

  He makes it clear that there are two sides to this seemingly uniform society. 

  Which is why this book depicts Ethiopia as having both a conservative side, with its high-handed, conformist and unquestioning attitude towards certain customs, and a reformist side which, although not always influential, would in this instance save ዓወቀ from further ridicule and exclusion. 

 But in this constant struggle between Ethiopia’s mainstream culture and our more reform-minded subculture, ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ is very clear on which side he is on. And those interested in his position can either look to ሓዲስ አለም’s overlooked details, its questioning characters or the book’s beautifully written introduction, in which he clearly states his position:   

“አንዳንድ ሰዎች ብዙ ዘመን የኖረውን ልማድ ማሻሻልና ማደስ እንደ ነውር ይመስላቸዋል። ይኸውም የቀደመውን እና የዛሬውን ታሪክ ካለማንበባቸው እና ካለመረዳታቸው የተነሣ ነው እንጂ ታሪክ አንብበው በነበሩ ዛሬ በዓለም ላይ ልማዱን ያላሻሻለ እና ያላደሰ ሕዝብ አለመኖሩን ያገኙት ነበር።”

Our Cultural Discourse

  And this, in my mind, is what makes ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ an exemplary Ethiopian.  

  For he not only accurately described our cultural discourse and its tendency to omit those non-conformists among us. He also criticized the way in which it tries to silence them. 

  Whether it is our tendency to label them as foreigners and cultural outsiders or our habit of viewing their critiques as immoral and anti-Ethiopian, ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ reminds us that such a questioning and reflective citizen is neither foreign to Ethiopian culture nor a threat to it. 

  Instead, he sees them as being part of a long and proud tradition that, although not always influential, has always been part of Ethiopian society.  

 And he did all this, my dear reader, in 1925. 

  So the next time you run into a modern-day መምሬ ሰባጋዲስ, do not be discouraged by their empty labels and predictable insults. Instead, try to remember ሓዲስ አለም, its open-minded characters and its commendable author. 

 Remember that cultural conservatism does not mean cultural knowledge. And for all their talk of cultural conservation, bear in mind that our conservatives are not conserving every part of our culture. 

  Cherish the fact that those aspects of our culture that they omit are filled with proud Ethiopians that have always seen the value of questioning our social norms. Whether it is ዘርዓያቆብ፣ ወልደ ህይወት፣ ነጋድራስ ገብረህይወት ባይከዳኝ፣ አቤ ጉበኛ፣ ዳኛቸው ወርቁ፣ ሀዲስ ዓለማየሁ፣ በዓሉ ግርማ or ብላቴን ጌታ ኅሩይ, each of these writers are part of our critically minded subculture and are no less Ethiopian for it. 

  So never forget that you are in good company and, like ዓወቀ, keep voicing your critiques.