Ethiopia’s impenitent ex-dictator, Mengistu Haile-Mariam, is back in
the limelight — nineteen years after his ouster and just before the
publication of his much anticipated memoir in the US.
The second series of interviews between him and Genet Ayele, daughter
and ex-wife of soldiers in the army he had once transformed into one
of the best and largest in Africa, but now married to a Frenchman and
comfortably settled in Paris, came out to little fanfare in Addis last
weekend.
The astounding triumph of the EPRDF in acquiring the publishing rights
of the first series of interviews, some eight years ago, had been
significant not only as an obvious public relations bonanza, but no
less for the damage to the power of the message when it was
dismissively published by the chief culprit of its content. Genet’s
rather insensitive (and ill-advised) attempt to dismiss the controversy
this generated to “old retarded journalists” (Yedero ajuza
gazetenoch, as she rowdily calls them) is at best inane, but most
probably signifies her increasing proximity to people in power; one of
whom, Endrias Eshete, she unabashedly lauds in flowery words in the
first pages of her new book.
Why then would Mengistu receive her at his residence in Harare several
more times and oblige her with interviews for a second book? Perhaps
he is telling the EPRDF that they had not succeeded in thwarting him,
that it was he who had in fact outmaneuvered them by making them think
that they would steal his thunder by publishing him, and used them to
relay his message to the people. Or maybe not. And he could just be
too isolated and confused to keep abreast of current events. We will
have to wait for his memoir, and hopefully he will provide us with an
unambiguous (and truthful) answer there.
This is a far thinner book than the first, which is several hundred
pages more. Of the hundred and ninety pages of the new book, less
than ninety carry Mengistu’s words. The rest — in effect more than
half the book — are interviews with an array of unnamed officials of
his regime. Amazingly, almost twenty years after the collapse of the
regime, all but one, Dawit Welde-Giorgis , still insists on speaking
anonymously. Priced sensibly at 35 birr, it falls reasonably within
the reach of the urban elite. Vendors have displayed it prominently,
and cheerfully affirm that sales are robust.
Few are surprised that sales are strong. The Ethiopian public has
frequently adored its strong leaders. And when they are visibly absent
from the public domain in confusing times (as is the current aftermath
of EPRDF’s outlandish 99.6% “win”), nostalgia for them — even those of
the wrong genre — becomes overpowering.
Perhaps it is instinctive, implanted in Mengistu’s genes; or it could
be his most cherished lesson from his training as an Officer; or it
could even be the most enduring mark of his seventeen years in
politics, but what ever its origins, doubt not that he lives by the
adage that pronounces: “the best defense is a good offense.”
Reading his words, it’s easy to imagine him speaking with his head
held up, his eyes intense as ever, his tone habitually defiant, and
his charisma still dangerous, infectious and intact.
But it is also confidence that is at times direly overplayed. A case
in point is when he is confronted with calls for his act of
contrition, the need for him to publicly seek for the nation’s
absolution. He stubbornly refuses to budge: “We fought them (his
opponents) when they sought to dismember the nation. Is this why I
should seek exoneration?” he asks defiantly. But it was not only armed
separatists that had lost their lives, nor were they only the ones who were tortured, imprisoned and forced into exile during his years in
power. Many others became victims needlessly. How, for example, could
the bombing of Howzen be explained? Or the wanton destruction of
Massswa? Or the Red Terror, which demanded “the death of a thousand
anarchists (EPRP members) for every life of a revolutionary?” His
ornate rhetoric notwithstanding, he clearly falls short here. He will
have ample room to correct himself in his memoir.
“If I had resigned on my own accord, to whom would I have transferred
the reigns of power?” he inquires rhetorically at one point, musing
over the reluctance of African leaders to give up power. “To Weyane?(Laughs!)” Even nineteen years later, his eloquent criticism of the
diminished patriotism of EPRDF leaders remain forcefully (and
disturbingly) biting as ever. And his contempt for his successor is
more palpable. “We did not even know his (Meles’) name,” says
Mengistu. He criticizes him personally for “petitioning the UN to
dismember his own country.” No leader in history has ever done that,
Mengistu insists; clearly implying that the judgment of history will
be far harsher on Meles than it will be on him.
His anti-Americanism remains livid as ever. “We thought that the
proletariat would eventually run the world. But it is the Americans
who have assumed that position,” he tells Genet remorsefully. “The
American people have changed,” he says, and speaks of their opposition
to the war in Vietnam. He criticizes them for supporting the invasion
of Iraq. “Is there no (international) law? (to protect the weak from
the strong)” he asks. Of Africa, he speaks of a crippling culture of
corruption. “Ethiopia did not have the same problem. African leaders
looked at us with envy.”
Mengistu spoke of a web of conspiracies that had always plagued his
regime. “There were nine assassination attempts against me,” he
maintains, “but people know of only one.” And he details of an
alleged plot hatched by a General, Gezmu (last name not given), in
which his deputy, Fikre-Selassie Wegderese, and his security chief,
Tesfaye Welde-Selassie, are possibly (but not definitely) implicated.
“I heard about it after I left Ethiopia,” he reveals, a bit
menacingly.
With his benefactor, Robert Mugabe, now over eighty years old and most
probably serving his last term in office, isn’t Mengistu worried about
extradition? “Mugabe fought and liberated his country from colonists.
But I am here as a guest of the Zimbabwe people. I am not a personal
guest of Mugabe. And veterans of the liberation struggle are well
aware of this fact.”
Finally,his book. “We (his regime) have been likened to Mussolini and
Hitler and sullied,” says Mengistu of those who write of his legacy.
“Repeat lies often enough and they will be mistaken for the truth. I
have to set the record straight.” The book will have four parts. The
first part is slated for a deliberation on history, which Mengistu
feels is grossly misconstrued, but will also deal with the war against
Somalia, in which he was one of the principal actors. “The second part
will address the Eritrean issue and the war in the north in general,”
says Mengistu. The third part will be an overview of his regime’s
international relations. The last part, the fourth, will offer an
insight into why and how his regime collapsed.
Well, it’s about time, sir. Nineteen years is a long time to prepare a
memoir. But now that it has finally come to see the light of day, be
advised that you must tell the truth and nothing but the truth. You
owe the people at least that much.
