C.F. Rey, taken from “The Real Abyssinia” (1935):
“Amid the few strong men and striking personalities brought to light during and immediately after the Great War, Tafari Makonnen, now King of Kings of Ethiopia under the style of Haile Selassie I, deserves to take a high place. I have had the privilege of knowing him since 1919, and few personalities with whom I have come in contact have made so deep an impression upon me as this remarkable man. (…)
The present Emperor is rather below medium height, slight in build, with refined, even delicate features, small and well-formed feet and hands, ‘les attaches fines’.
Ordinarily his face is almost Oriental in its calm expressionless immobility – but when really interested, angry, or amused the large dreamy eyes light up and the whole face shews the working of the alert mind and the passionate soul behind them. Courtesy and charm of manner are allied to a carriage full of dignity, and he plays his part in State and official receptions in a manner that leaves nothing to be desired.
Though kind-hearted in general, he can shew hardness and even cruelty in a manner typically Abyssinian. His thoughts are all his own, I do not suppose he has given his confidence to a single human being (…)
I think that if he had been left to administer his own vast personal estates in Harrar, and to live the life of a ‘grand seigneur’ among his own people, he would have developed into a lovable character, possibly of a dreamer. He is a very well educated man, a great and catholic reader, a fine horseman, and – a comparative rarity in Abyssinia – a good family man.
He married a very charming and cultured lady, the Wazero Manen, now the Empress, and has six children, three sons and three daughters; (…)
His outstanding ability, allied to his royal descent, marked him out as one of the forces to be reckoned with in Abyssinia even at an early age. (…)
Tafari now faced with a tremendous task. The country was in a chaotic state, owing to the years of Lej Yasu’s misrule. The great chieftains of Rases, who governed most of the provinces as quasi-Kings, were semi-independent, impatient of control from headquarters, and opposed to any kind of reform. The Treasury was empty, and revenues only slender. There was no standing army to enforce his decrees. The three limitrophe powers, France, England, and Italy, still in the throes of the Great War, could give him no help, and one effect of the War had been to reduce the external trade of the country and thus impoverish it still further.
Worst of all, Tafari was not Emperor but merely Regent; and his progressive ideas were by no means shared by his cousin the Empress, whose reactionary tendencies received strong support from the very powerful Abyssinian Church.
Nevertheless he set himself to work with undaunted courage and vigour, working from daybreak until late at night, carrying the whole burden of the State on his shoulders, undermining with infinite patience and astuteness the positions of his domestic adversaries, playing off one foreign country against another when pressed from outside.
One by one the great Rases began to be replaced as Provincial Governors by nominees of his own, revenue began to be swollen by increased taxation, schools and hospitals were built in the capital, law and order enforced, and modern ideas began to infiltrate.
In 1922 he left the country for the first time on a visit to Aden, and there he impressed his hosts immensely, for within ten minutes of seeing an aeroplace for the first time in his life Ras Tafari was flying in it, in spite of the almost tearful efforts of his suit to prevent him.
Tafari was not content with trying to develop internal resources of his country; he was anxious to establish its position in the world. Realizing its weakness, and the covetous inclinations of some of its more powerful neighbours, he strove to secure its safety by admission to the League of Nations, and after much difficulty secured this personal triumph in September 1923. He followed this up by a visit to various European capitals in the springs of 1924, and it is to be feared that his head may have been a little turned and he may have derived a false impression of things by the rather elaborate welcome he received, being indeed met at the stations of various capitals by Kings and Prime Ministers.
The shock he received in 1925 was the greater. The negotiation of the agreement between Italy and England for mutual support for their requirements in Abyssinia led him to make a vigorous protest to the League of Nations, and he expressed his feelings with much force … (…)
From now onwards he worked harder than ever for the development of Abyssinia; he took a personal interest in every form of enterprise great and small, and how he found and still finds time to do it all is really astonishing. As an example I well remember one day seeing him superintending road construction. As a survival of feudalism, it has always been a the practice when any such work was undertaked for the Ruler for him to set the example by himself placing the first stone of the road. Chiefs and Ministers followed, and so on down through the hierarchy until thousands of individuals were to be seen toiling like ants along the whole stretch of road to be dealt with, while their feudal superiors watched the progress of the work from the nearest shady spot. On this occasion the familiar scene was in full progress, men carrying one small stone each, or a handful of earth on a leaf, most of them on foot, but some on mules, riding with a minute portion of soil in a cactus-leaf on their shoulder. And every morning for a week the Regent surveyed the work in person until the road was ready; but – the modern touch – from his motor-car, while at the same time transacting business of State with his ministers and officials.
A few years later he was again watching a road being made. But this time there was no feudal army at work – just a powerful modern caterpillar tractor, and a handful of men. A significant change.
The opposition he encountered from the Empress and the reactionary party came to a head in 1928 when, after the usual preliminary intrigues, a ‘coup d’etat’ was staged and Tafari took all power into his own hands and had himself crowned King. Inasmuch, however, as the Empress’ relationship to Menelik and the fact that she had been crowned by the Abouna gave her a sort of almost semi-divine status, Tafari was wise enough to leave her her position of Empress, though stripped of all real power; and her convenient death in 1930 left him literally, as well as metaphorically, monarch of all he surveyed, albeit a monarch.
Two pictures of Haile Selassie I shall always carry in my mind. One is of a private talk I had alone with him, discussing various matters affecting Abyssinia with insight and clarity while a favourite dog lay on his knees, and his small son stood by his side, his hand on his father’s arm, staring from his father to me with wide open eyes.
The other was in Wazero Manen’s drawing-room where my wife and I were having a tea with them. Into the room came what I am bound to say I regarded as a rather overgrown lion cub, and I shall never forget Tafari’s mischievous smile as he watched to see how we should take the arrival of the latest guest. It was pleasant enough to play with, but some of the Abyssinian dignitaries present did not share their master’s enthusiasm, and the champagne trickled over the edges of one or two of their glasses which seemed to have become curiously unsteady.”
