The Crown and the Pen: The Memoir of a Lawyer Turned Rebel
Bereket Habteselassie.  Red Sea Press, 2007
350 pages, $29.95

With the importance of memoirs in mind, the 19^th century thinker Alexander Smith once wrote that “Memory is a man’s real possession…  In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.” Well said; notable figures in history are remembered less for the material riches they leave behind than for the contribution they make to the repository of collective human memories.  Memoir writers play an immense role in the evolution, growth and refinement of the human understanding of events as they unfold in real time and space.  In a way, every memoir is an eye witness account of living history unfolding through complex processes of social phenomena, events, and the actions and reactions of multiple players.  To a large measure, social scientists and historians owe their profession to memoirs and unwritten memories of real participants in the making of history, as they attempt to hopefully unlock the inner meanings of the past and its bearings on the present. 

No where is the importance of memoirs clearer than in developing countries, such as Eritrea and Ethiopia, where much research is needed to understand their past and appreciate their present predicament?  Although some work has been done on the subject, the political histories of both Ethiopia and Eritrea have yet to be systematically explored, objectively studied and fully understood if only to appreciate their turbulent past and their present state of political decay and economic retardation.  In keeping with this imperative, Bereket Habteselassie has produced the first of a two volume memoir.  Given his long life (and that he is equally well versed in both academia and Eritrean and Ethiopian politics), Professor Bereket has invaluable insights to share with the reader.  The Crown and the Pen is a welcome and refreshing addition to the literature on the African Horn; the memoir in particular covers vast ground and fills huge gaps in contemporary Ethiopian and Eritrean history, politics and law. 

Since a number of personal, professional, legal, economic and political stories run parallel throughout the memoir, the author’s work can be read in various ways.  One can, for example, read the memoir as a plain narrative of the author’s life history, including his intellectual prowess, professional career and political activism as well as his political and personal misfortunes.  Alternatively, the reader may use the author as a surrogate narrator of the tumultuous events as they have been unfolding  in Ethiopia and Eritrea over the past sixty years.  In either case, the reader will find plenty to chew and much more to be excited about or inspired by.  I believe that every reader will be greatly enriched from the general discussion and insightful evaluation of such big topics as the externally arranged marriage between Eritrea and Ethiopia, the archaic feudal politics in the Ethiopian empire state, the failed attempts at inducing peaceful change in the empire state, the development of constitutional law, the evolution of a uniquely African system of presidential neopatrimonialism, the place of the Organization of African Unity in continental politics, and much more.  The author’s wit and wicked humor are also very entertaining.   

Those who are interested in the author’s personal narrative can follow Professor Bereket’s journey from highland Eritrea, where he was a village shepherd and primary school student, to Ethiopia, where he was an elementary and secondary school student, and finally to the University of London, where he earned a bachelor in the letters of law and a doctoral degree.  What is amazing about Professor Bereket’s intellectual gift is that he completed twelve years of education in just seven years.  He matriculated for the University of London entrance examination and passed with flying colors with only two years of high school education. 

Professor Bereket tells us that his formative intellectual years in London in the late 40s and early 50s were crucial to the evolution of his ideological orientation and to the crystallization of his political views.  It was in London in particular and in Europe in general where he found himself exposed to the ideological fermentation and political currents of the era.  In consequence, he got himself immersed in the African politics of decolonization.  By virtue of his immersion in the decolonization movement, he was able to develop a wide network of African friends.  His subsequent encounters with many members of the first generation of African leaders began in London.  As a result, the biographical vignettes of such towering figures of the continent as Nkrumah, Ture, Nyerere, Lumumba, Odinga, and Mboya, which he exquisitely weaves into the general description of his encounters, are very illuminating.  In a nutshell, not only does the memoir splendidly and interestingly capture the buoyant mood, optimism, hopes and aspirations of African political activists who were soon to constitute the first generation of post-colonial African leaders but also provides insightful analyses of why those leaders failed to achieve Africa’s dreams of democracy, prosperity, and international relevance. 

Professor Bereket’s London years were equally crucial to the cultivation of personal and deferential relationships with the emerging class of educated Ethiopians, including members of the royal house.  He befriended many of them, but also roused the animosity of quite a few of them. 

Professor Bereket tells us that his intellectual pedigree and academic success were a double-edged sword.  On the one hand, the author was destined for rapid career promotion in the Ethiopian imperial order; he was a hot commodity.  Like almost all educated Ethiopian contemporaries, his modern education was seen as critical to the modernization of the imperial bureaucracy, something that readily lent itself to his rapid career promotion.  In no time would he become the youngest attorney-general in the history of the country.  On the other hand, however, as he began to climb the imperial ladder, the author began to draw not only the admiration of friends but also the envious attention of adversaries.  Ultimately, the author tells us that his progressive politics in combination with his Eritrean identity stood in the way of his political career and indeed his survival.  His Eritrean identity (complicated by his political activism in the progressive Ethiopian movement) placed him under constant suspicion and surveillance.  Seen as subversive, he was expelled from the University College of Addis Abeba after only three weeks service as a full member of the law faculty, an experience that culminated in his banishment to a far away province within the empire state. 

On the macro level, Professor Bereket opens our eyes to the inner workings of the imperial order.  Because of his “adoption” into the Amhara clan of nobility by marriage and professional service, he demonstrates a unique insight into the modus operandi of the ruling clan; he illuminates the Darwinian struggle and intense rivalry that existed among the various factions of the aristocratic class.  Professor Bereket argues that the forceful engagement of the nobility in the pornography of power, each trying to curry favor with the Emperor at the expense of others) was a major obstacle to putting Ethiopia on a trajectory of change and progress.  Even more difficult to overcome was the irreconcilable conflict that remained between the forces of tradition and those of modernity.  According to the author, it is this fundamental contradiction between the two forces that supplied the objective conditions to the 1974 Ethiopian revolution.  In fact, hopeful that this revolution was the long-awaited answer to the burning land issue in the country as well as to the war raging in Eritrea, Professor Bereket returned to Ethiopia in 1974 from his comfortable position and hefty salary at the World Bank to serve in the newly set up commission of investigation, mandated to look into the abuses and crimes of officials of the ancien regime.  However, the commission’s mandate was overtaken by events as power struggles intensified within the ruling junta.  The commission itself became one of the first casualties of the power struggle.   Professor Bereket tells us that, partly because of his resistance to cooptation by the radical wing of the junta and partly because of his longstanding friendship with the head of state who happened to be an Eritrean, he began to run for his life, a life spared by Eritrean fighters.  It is here that Professor Bereket’s second political journey begins.  Since 1974, Professor Bereket continued to play a highly visible role in Eritrea’s liberation politics, including mediating between the two warring factions of the liberation movement, helping to create a relief organization, and representing the Eritrean People’s Liberation Front in various forums. 

In conclusion, one cannot help but appreciate Professor Bereket’s presence on the stage for almost sixty years as a political activist, academician, and opinion maker.  The Crown and the Pen has plenty of stuff for the unfamiliar with the history, politics, culture and law of not only Ethiopia and Eritrea but also of the whole of Africa.  For the familiar, the work evokes a powerful nostalgia for a bygone era.  Whether unfamiliar or familiar, one cannot extract oneself from the personages, peoples, events and places, described in the memoir with interestingly provocative thoughtfulness, eloquence, accessibility, and comprehensiveness.  Every reader will find in the memoir characters whom he can admire or not admire.  One of my favorite characters in the memoir is Professor Bereket’s own wife.  She does come out smelling like roses.  A wife who tolerates the perpetual political nomadism of a husband and follows him from place to place in the face of all adversity must be a woman endowed with the patience of Job; I have drawn enormous inspiration from her exemplary tenacity, resilience, and remarkably selfless devotion to keeping the family together.

Expectedly, the memoir is likely to stir up some controversy, drawing the attention of the author’s Eritrean and Ethiopian detractors.  Ethiopians have long complained in a characteristic manner about Professor Bereket “abandoning” his “mother” who educated him and presented him with covetous career opportunities; pro-regime Eritrean detractors will try to diminish his role in the Eritrean struggle as part of the orchestrated effort to politically ostracize him.  And this is precisely the reason why we should welcome this invaluable memoir.  Only when a memoir provokes others to write their own version of history do we all become versed in the diversity of perspectives and interpretations.  So, I say, let one-hundred schools contend and let every person write their memoir so that we can have richer, fuller and more diverse accounts and interpretations of history.