I Didn't Do It for You (43 page)

Domestic critics rolled their eyes to heaven. This was self-indulgent folly, they complained, an indication of how the PFDJ was mismanaging the transition from rebel organization to modern government. The Massawa–Asmara line would
probably never be reconstituted and even if it were, the locomotives would carry too little cargo to make a difference. When the war in Badme blew up, their scepticism seemed confirmed. With the young apprentices away at the Front, only the veterans were left, and progress slowed to a snail's pace.

Yet every time I visited, I noticed that the brown ribbon of track had edged a little further towards the capital, the white scar that snaked its way around the mountain was that much shorter. Just as their predecessors had done a century before, the Eritrean railwaymen paused before tackling the gravity-defying final climb up to Asmara, gave one last heave, and scaled the plateau. The railway between Asmara and Massawa, the engineering feat Martini had regarded as his life's greatest achievement–now reborn as a symbol of gritty Eritrean nationhood–is a reality once again.

On one of my last trips to Asmara, I took a ride on the lowland section, watching as a wizened railwayman, who still spoke functional Italian, expertly spun and loosened the brakes on the railcar. The diesel locomotive whistled through tunnels and rattled round bends. As it stopped repeatedly to let farmers load grain sacks onto waiting camels and take aboard women carrying bouquets of upended chickens, the sun slowly sank over the thorn trees. Lights were a luxury the old network did not run to, and a dark, starlit peace descended upon us. A confused bat landed in my lap, wriggled in brief panic, then flew off. Someone turned on a radio and jangling Eritrean music filled the carriage. By the time I stumbled off the train, my hair permeated by the smoky aroma of home-cured leather, the moon was out. Seven hours to travel 32 km, pause and return: it had undoubtedly been the slowest train ride of my life. But parts of Eritrea that had been cut off for decades were trading again, farmers were tending long-neglected plots in the knowledge they would be able to get their vegetables to market. The
Eritreans had done it their way–the dogged, counter-intuitive, hardest way–but they had pulled it off.

The following day, my bags packed, notebooks stowed, I was blessed with one of those moments of serendipity which always seem to take place in Eritrea.

We bumped into each other in a snack bar opposite the red-brick cathedral. It was just after lunch, a time of day when most of Asmara, true to its Italian ancestry, pulls down the metal shutters and takes a nap. Outside, the sun slammed down on Liberation Avenue, as relentless as gravity itself. Inside, the blue-veined marble floor was cool. I went to place my order and found my words being echoed by a middle-aged man standing next to the cashier, who had decided–notwithstanding the fact that all three of us were speaking in English–to act as interpreter.

Me to cashier: ‘I'll have a
macchiato
.'

Him to cashier: ‘She says she'll have a
macchiato
.'

Me to cashier: ‘And a doughnut.'

Him to cashier: ‘Give her a doughnut too.'

Cashier to me: ‘Four nakfa.'

Him to me: ‘That will be four nakfa.'

‘So,' he said, having established with this friendly, if super-fluous, service, a certain bond: ‘Who are you? What are you doing in Asmara?' ‘I'm a journalist. From England. I'm doing research.' ‘A British journalist? BBC?' He positively beamed. His face was as plump as a cherry and when he smiled, it radiated pure bonhomie. ‘Can you help me? You see, I'd like to see some footage the BBC filmed of me when I was a young man. Also, there are two Americans, two old friends of mine, I would very much like to get back in touch with them.'

‘A BBC film? Well, they have archives, of course. In London. But I'd need the details to track it down. When was this?'

‘It was in 1975. Tom Boudhoud'–he stumbled over an
awkward name–‘and David Strickland. They had been working at Kagnew Station and were taken hostage by the ELF. The BBC did an interview when they were under guard.'

There was something about this story, I sensed, I was failing to grasp. Had this man worked at Kagnew Station? Had he been held hostage alongside the two Americans? What was the connection?

‘You say you were their friend?'

‘Yes, yes, we became very close. I am curious to know what I was like then, to see myself in my twenties. It's history now, for them and for me.'

Suddenly, the pieces clicked together to form an explanation so magnificently surreal I gave an incredulous laugh. ‘You're the one who took them hostage. You were the ELF kidnapper.'

He gently remonstrated with me. ‘I was head of the ELF unit. But I think of myself as their friend.' That piercingly-sweet smile again. ‘You see, I was simply doing my duty. We were fighting for independence. We were all soldiers together, both the Americans and us, and the Americans were supporting our enemy.'
²

‘Why on earth do you want to get back in touch with them? Do you want to apologize?'

He ignored the question: it really was a bit crass. ‘That was a very special time for me and for them. It was the first time, for both of us. We only kept them for a week, in a little house in the mountains, before the ELF came to take them to Gash Barka, but it felt more like seven years together. At first, they thought we were just villagers who were going to kill them. In fact, I come from one of Asmara's most established families. I've never forgotten Tom and David. We were happy at that time, because we thought we were heroes.'

In a case of reverse Stockholm syndrome, the kidnapper had, it seemed, fallen half in love with his hostages. Here was all
the nostalgia of a 50-year-old attending a high school reunion, pining for his lost youth while desiring ‘closure', but with the added piquancy lent by the AK-47, the ransom note and the comradeship of camouflage.

We sat together at one of the green banquettes and surveyed the sun-dazed street. He was only passing through. The Communist revolutionary had long since turned respectable businessman and now lived in Sweden, where he worked for a trading company. There were things he urgently wanted to explain, but his Swedish was better than his English and the words were coming with difficulty. He stumbled on, illustrating his argument with rough sketches on a paper napkin.

‘In Eritrea, we love the West. But the West has decided to treat us as some kind of enemy. It criticizes our government, its journalists take Ethiopia's side in the war. It is true, we make mistakes, and we will make many more. But what you have to understand is that we are a very young country. We have only been independent for a few years. We are like a child, going for the first time to the…the…what do you call it?'

‘The kindergarten?'

‘Yes, a child going to the kindergarten. At the start, his mother has to stay with him. The West must stay with us now. It has to be patient, not beat us like a teacher in a Third World school. Instead of slapping our government and saying: “You did a stupid thing”, it should be saying: “He will learn.”' He pointed to the cathedral across the way. ‘Look at that Italian cathedral. Look at these bars and these cinemas. Look at the way these girls walk around in T-shirts. In Saudi Arabia they would have to cover up, here they are free.'

He searched again for the right words, and found them. ‘Our history makes us close. We have an affinity. Do not push us away.'

As there is no precise formula for translating Tigrinya and Amharic into the Roman alphabet, Eritrean and Ethiopian names can be spelt in a variety of ways. When identifying living individuals, I have used the version they preferred. When dealing with historical figures and places, I have chosen the version I guessed readers were most likely to have encountered in the past.

Abyssinia
Former name for Ethiopia. It stopped being used after World War II.

Amhara
Ethiopia's dominant ethnic group, from which its rulers traditionally came.

Ascari
Eritreans recruited to serve in Italy's colonial army. Between 1890 and 1941, around 130,000 Eritreans served as
ascaris
, fighting at the battle of Adua, in Somalia and in Libya. They also played a crucial role in Italy's 1935 invasion of Ethiopia.

ASA
Army Security Agency. Branch of the US' highly secretive National Security Agency in Fort Meade, where government communications are enciphered and foreign communications monitored. It ran Kagnew Station until 1972.

Berbere
Rich mix of spices used in Eritrean and Ethiopian food.
Derg
Popular term for the Provisional Military Administrative Council, a shadowy group of dissident army officers that emerged in Ethiopia in early 1974. The Derg overthrew Haile Selassie and shocked the public by then killing its own chairman, executing 59 former government members and cutting ties with the US. By 1977, having eliminated his rivals, Mengistu Haile Mariam emerged as its undisputed leader.

Eritrean rebel movements
Eritrea's armed struggle was launched by the Eritrean Liberation Front (ELF), founded in Cairo in 1960 by Moslem Eritreans. Although it had strong links with Arab states, the ELF initially recruited both Christians and Moslems. But in the early 1970s a group of Christian highlanders broke away, going on to form the Eritrean People's Liberation Front (EPLF). Civil wars between the two movements played disastrously into Ethiopia's hands. But by 1980 the EPLF had eclipsed the ELF, whose remnants were pushed into Sudan. Both movements embraced Marxism, although the EPLF watered down its Communist message as victory approached.

EPRDF
In 1989 Ethiopia's ethnically-based opposition movements merged to form the Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front, dominated by the TPLF. The coalition captured Addis Ababa in 1991 with Eritrean support and set up Ethiopia's current government.

Isaias Afwerki
President of Eritrea and former EPLF secretary-general. Born in a district of Asmara in 1946, he interrupted his engineering studies at Addis Ababa University to join the ELF. He was sent to China for training but grew disillusioned, setting up the EPLF with a group of close associates.

Kebessa
Eritrea's central highlands, inhabited by Christian, Tigrinya-speaking people. Include the historic provinces of Hamasien, Akele Guzai and Seraye.

Meles Zenawi
Prime Minister of Ethiopia. Born in Adua in 1956, he interrupted his medical studies in Addis Ababa to join the TPLF, rising to the post of chairman.

Mengistu Haile Mariam
Of modest origins, Major Mengistu emerged as leader of the Derg in the mid-1970s and went on to establish one-man rule. He brutally suppressed opposition during the Red Terror, embraced Marxism and won massive military backing from Moscow for his wars on Somalia and Eritrean separatism. Sometimes dubbed ‘the Red Negus', he fled to exile in Zimbabwe in 1991.

Oromo
A pastoral people, the Oromo began migrating in the mid-16th century into southern and southeastern Ethiopia, where they gradually integrated with the Amhara nobility. They are now the country's largest ethnic group.

PFDJ
In February 1994, with independence achieved, the EPLF dissolved
itself and launched a political movement, the People's Front for Democracy and Justice.

Ras
Ethiopian title for ‘prince' or ‘duke'.

Ras Tafari
Son of the governor of Harar province, Ras Tafari became regent to Empress Zawditu, acceding to the imperial throne following her death. He took the name ‘Haile Selassie', ‘Power of the Trinity' in Amharic.

Shabia
‘People's' or ‘popular'–used to denote the EPLF.
Shemmah
White cotton shawl.

Shewa
Central Ethiopian province, historically the heart of Abyssinia's Christian empire. It recovered that role in the late 19th century under Menelik ll, and now holds the modern capital of Addis Ababa.

Shifta
Traditionally applied to those who rebelled against their feudal lords. It was later used to denote armed bandits operating in the countryside.

Tegadlai
Freedom fighter. Plural is
tegadelti
.

Tigray
North-eastern Ethiopian province, bordering Eritrea. Political centre of the ancient Axumite empire. Its people are known as Tigrayans. They share their Tigrinya language, highland customs and Orthodox Christian faith with inhabitants of the Eritrean kebessa.

TPLF
Tigrayan People's Liberation Front. Marxist-Leninist movement that sprang up in Ethiopia's northern province in the mid-1970s. Relations with the longer-established Eritrean rebel groups across the border were strained by ideological and tactical differences, but in 1988 the TPLF and EPLF agreed to cooperate on military strategy, a move that led to the Derg's defeat.

Woyane
used to denote the TPLF.