By Dr. Richard Pankhurst:-
Menilek’s reign witnessed the taking of a number of important steps 
to ameliorate the country’s difficult communications, as well as to 
reduce its isolation from the rest of the world.
Bridge-Building on the Awash River, and the Tamchi
The first of these innovations was the erection of a bridge over the 
Awash river, in 1886, by Menilek’s Swiss engineer, Alfred Ilg.
This, however, was not the first such edifice built in nineteenth 
century Ethiopia. A couple of years earlier, in 1884, King Takla 
Haymanot of Gojam had erected a bridge over the Tamchi river, a 
tributary of the Blue Nile. It was constructed under the direction of an
 Italian, Count Salimbeni, and was a miracle of improvisation. Salimbeni
 recalls that the workers did not take readily to the discipline of 
manual work. However, the King, anxious to forward the project, himself 
lent a hand. By carrying stones he succeeded in breaking down the 
general reluctance to engage in manual work.
The supply problem was also difficult. Limestone had to be carried a 
distance of three days’ journey. Trowels were made out of the engineers’
 frying pans, hammers out of local ploughs, and rope out of twisted 
cowgut, while bamboos were set in straw-strengthened mud to serve as 
scaffolding.
Notwithstanding the success of the Tamchi bridge there is said to 
have been much discussion before Menilek’s Awash bridge was subsequently
 decided upon. According to Ilg, who may however exaggerated the extent 
of the opposition in order to enhance his own role in the proceedings, 
Menilek was at first skeptical when the Swiss engineer proposed the 
erection of a bridge without poles.
The Royal Fist
Ilg therefore constructed a toy model to demonstrate his idea, but 
the King hit it with his fist, whereupon it fell to pieces. A second 
model shared the same fate, but a third, which was stronger than its 
predecessors, withstood the royal fist, whereupon orders were given for 
construction to begin.
Ilg describes the building operations in a humourous, though 
revealing, letter which is reminiscent of Salimbeni’s efforts at 
improvisation of a few years earlier. “Shoa,” he writes, “has advanced a
 step forward . . . the beams had to be carried 15 kilometres on human 
shoulders. For the bridgeheads I had to square up the stones on the 
spot. I even had to burn coal in order to forge the nails, rivets, 
screws and bolts required. Add to this a tropical sun with all its 
dangers, heavy rains with resultant dysentery, intermittent fever, and 
cyclones which almost pulled out my beard and carried the tent in all 
directions. At night the hyenas almost stole our leather pillows from 
under our heads, jackals and other rabble plundered the kitchen and 
obliged me to obtain respect with strychnine.”
Ilg’s wooden bridge was soon afterwards destroyed in local fighting, 
but was at once replaced by a second. When this wore out two French 
engineers, Stevenin and Trouillet, erected a steel footbridge. The 
construction work once again was by no means easy. The girders, 
Trouillet observed, were brought up from Jibuti with “great difficulty,”
 and to make matters worse, the King had used for other purposes the 
cement sent from Europe with the result that the engineers had to make 
their own lime from stone brought from Minjar province, a distance of 
three days’ journey away.
The construction of the Awash bridge was followed, in the next few 
decades, by numerous other bridges in other parts of the country.
Early in the twentieth century the old bridge over the Blue Nile was 
repaired. Menilek’s chronicler, Gabra Sellassie, comments, doubtless 
also with some exaggeration, that hitherto no one had dared to cross the
 river during the ruins, but that henceforth everyone walked across in 
safety, and blessed those who had built the bridge. They supposedly 
declared: “May the Lord give long life to Menelik and Taitu ! May power 
remain with their descendants ! May their Kingdom flourish eternally 
like the plants at the edge of the water!”
A Similar Sentiment
A similar sentiment, it is interesting to note, was recalled to the 
present writer half a century or so later by Dagnew Kendi, a student 
from Begemder. He reported that he once saw an old woman crossing the 
seventeenth century bridge of Fasiladas over the Angareb river near 
Gondar. As she crossed, the water suddenly rose, whereupon she cried 
out, “King Fasil is dead, gone for ever, never to come back and see 
Gondar. But what he has done for us remains a symbol of the dedication 
and love he had for Gondar. If it had not been for him I would have 
joined my ancestors. God bless his soul! ”
She, for one, seems to have appreciated that innovation!
Almost Sacrosanct
Ethiopia’s early bridges were considered almost sacrosanct. Because 
of the difficulty, and expense, of construction and maintenance, the 
rule was established for most bridges that they should be used only 
during the rains, when it was not possible to ford the river. At all 
other times the bridges were barricaded and, closed to the public.
Russian Engineers
The importance of even such “part-time” bridges cannot, however, be 
under-estimated. The great inconvenience resulting from their absence, 
particularly during the rains, is vividly described by Gabra Sellassie. 
He states that in Addis Ababa the judges refused to call guarantors or 
witnesses between the feasts of Gabra Menfus Qeddus in Hamle and 
Maskaram, i.e. from July 12 to September 15 or 16, because of the 
immense difficulty of crossing the swollen rivers, and that many 
litigants, in trying to go to court, were in fact carried away while 
crossing rivers. It was quite common in those days, the Georgian Dr. 
Merab confirms, for two or three Europeans, and perhaps a score of 
Ethiopians, to be drowned attempting to cross rivers every year in the 
capital.
Addis Ababa’s first stone bridge was in fact built by Russian 
engineers, after one of their compatriots had perished trying to cross 
the Kabana river.
The First Modern Roads
Early in the twentieth century, the first modern roads were 
constructed between Addis Ababa and Addis Alam, and between Harar and 
Dire Dawa. This was done with the assistance of Italian and French 
engineers respectively. Other roads followed in the next few years.
Road-building was an especially significant development in the 
Ethiopian context, for it marked an important step towards economic and 
political unity, as well as the breaking down of parochial ways of 
thinking.
Contemporary attitudes to road-building may be seen from the fact 
that Menilek’s chronicler likens the Addis Ababa-Addis Alma road to 
those of the ferenge, or Europeans. The British Ethiopicist 
Armsbruster, however, roundly declared: “The fact is the Abyssinians 
object to the construction of roads.”
In support of this statement he explains that Menilek had sent an 
engineer to Semien to improve the track, but that the local ruler, 
Dejazmach Gessesse, had “put so many obstacles in his way that he had to
 return without affecting anything.” The Dejazmach, we are told, had the
 full support of the local population, who declared, “If this road is 
improved, it will be all the easier for the Moslems and heathen to come 
up and attack us.”
The Jibuti Railway
Menilek’s reign also witnessed the advent of the railway, the bicycle, the steam roller and the motor car.
A concession for the construction of a railway from the Ethiopian 
capital to the French Somali port of Jibuti was granted by Menelik to 
Ilg as early as March 1894. The technical, financial and political 
difficulties involved were, however, so great that the line, which was 
constructed largely with French capital and skill, did not reach Dire 
Dawa until the end of 1902, and Aqaqi, 23 kilometres from Addis Ababa, 
until 1915.
The first train services from the coast to the capital were inaugurated only in 1917.
“Shoa Will be No Longer Yours”
Though Menilek’s perseverance and determination eventually ensured 
the success of the railway project, the idea of initiating so 
revolutionary a means of transport aroused much heart searching. 
According to the Italian observer Felter, Menilek had no sooner signed 
the railway concession than he began to have second thoughts about it. 
Empress Taitu and Ras Makonnen were both also reputed to have been 
worried about the project. Makonnen was supposed to have said to 
Menilek, “When the railway reaches Harar, Harar will be no longer yours;
 and when it reaches Addis Ababa, Shoa will be no longer yours.”
Opposition to the railway was taken for granted in British official 
reports for 1897 and 1898. Colonel Sadler, the United Kingdom resident 
in Aden, wrote: “It is reported that Menelek said all his Rases are 
against the railway.” Harrington, the British envoy in Addis Ababa, 
likewise quoted one Ras, who had said of the railway, “This is idiotic, 
Menelek has given away the key to his treasury.” Count Gleichen, who 
participated in a subsequent British mission to Ethiopia, drew a similar
 picture, observing: “A large number of the chiefs, at all events in the
 more western portion, would strongly object to such a new-fangled idea,
 on the grounds that it would introduce into the country the 
all-pervading white man.”
British official reports state that there were even popular 
demonstrations against the railway, though these were thought to be 
officially inspired. In April 1898, Harrington, wrote of a “popular 
meeting at the capital to protest against the Railway.” Shortly 
afterwards an Ethiopian nobleman, somewhat naively, observed to the 
British envoy, Rennell Rodd, “We don’t want rapid communication with the
 coast; the railway will be very useful to us in the interior; we shall 
wait till it is finished and then destroy its connection with the sea.”
But they didn’t!
Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org
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