In his book "Minutes of an Ethiopian Century" (Shama Press 2006), Ato Teferra Deguefe  claims to have been a "close personal friend" of my father, Assefa Dula, who "was to become a contentious figure in later years" (p.144).

So far, so good. However, his remarks about him are in several instances short of the whole truth–in particular his account of his death, which seems pieced together from various rumors that had circulated at the time and are missing a few salient details. If you will allow me, I would like to offer the facts in order to set the record straight for your esteemed readers.

The fatal shoot-out on September 14, 1967 was not, as Ato Teferra implies, caused solely by "some apparently provocative words and ambiguous repartees… exchanged by them" (p.246). That was only the proximate cause. The ultimate cause of Assefa's death stemmed rather from a lawsuit filed on behalf of an English couple and their six-week-old daughter, who for non-payment of rent, with no preliminary warning, were locked out of their house by their landlady, Mulu (Ras) Mesfin. Assefa brought a legal action seeking redress for this grievance. This evidently roused Mulu to a hysterical rage. Her attitude seemed to have been that the law should function as an authority serving to affirm the interests of the propertied class, rather than as an instrument of justice. She explained the situation to her husband, Hapte-Selassie Taffesse, then head of the Ethiopian Tourist Organization and to her brother, Lt. Jarra Mesfin, an absentee landlord, not on 'holiday'  from his diplomatic post.

A short time later, when Assefa happened to visit an offbeat Ethiopia Hotel to meet a friend, he unluckily ran into Ato Habte-Selassie and his brother-in-law. The official, with a veiled threat, asked Assefa why he did not come directly to his office to settle the matter, rather than taking the case through the legal system. Assefa explained the nature of the court procedure, and so effective was his argument that Ato Habte-Selassie forthwith changed his view of the case. The two men reconciled then and there.

Lt. Jarra, however, who was already feuding with Assefa on account of an argument over a game of chance that had taken place in Jimma some months previously, remained bitterly resentful. He now launched a belligerent tirade of insults, including a disparagement of Assefa's paternity by calling him yebaria lij -  son of a slave. Assefa retorted that he was a full-blooded Oromo, and reminded Jarra that his own mother's ethnic paternity made the epithet more appropriate to him than to Assefa. Jarra, hypersensitive on the subject of his ethnic heritage, flew into a rage. He made as if to reach for his revolver, but was restrained by his brother-in-law and another man present, Girma Atenafseged (himself a one-time victim of a gunshot by Jarra). Friends of Assefa–who was unarmed–begged him to leave. Jarra was a notoriously violent man. He had once used automatic weapons in Cairo against peaceful student demonstrators, killing two Ethiopians and an Egyptian policeman. This incident had taken place during a power struggle between the Emperor and Present Nasser of Egypt over the soul of the OAU.

Assefa allowed his friends to escort him outside the bar. Hours later, however, he returned to the hotel to see Lt. Degafa Tedela, a friend from the attempted coup in 1960 and for five years a fellow political prisoner. Jarra was still there; he at once renewed his verbal assault. Assefa challenged him to go outside. This time Assefa's friend, Haile-Mariam Mamo, together with Girma Atenafseged and others, begged Assefa to leave the bar. Once again, he reluctantly complied, leaving the bar in their company. Outside, he spent a few minutes saying good night to his friend, and got into his car. As he started the ignition, Jarra, now unrestrained because his brother-in-law had departed, dashed out through a side door and opened fire in the parking lot. Three bullets from his Smith & Wesson. 38 Struck Assefa's car, a fourth wounded an innocent by-stander, and a fifth hit Assefa, who quickly drew his own Smith & Wesson from the glove compartment of his car, got out, and shot Jarra five times. Jarra died on the spot.

Numerous bystanders witnessed this scence, including Mellese Gebru, who lost an index finger to a stray bullet from Jarra's gun. He testified to the facts as given above.

The wonded Assefa was driven in his own vehicle to the nearest hospital by Sergeant Kibert Chieko, a police officer, who had rushed to the scene upon hearing gunfire. A simple medical procedure would have saved Assefa's life, but the emergency facility of  Menelik II Hospital refused to admit him. It had been alleged that someone telephoned threatening reprisals should the doctors administer treatment. Sergeant Kibert was forced to drive to Haile-Sellassie I Hospital, which was a few kilometers away and to Ras Desta Hospital where Maza Dejazmatch Yemna Hassen was in charge. According to the medical examiner, this delay allowed Assefa's wound to hemorrhage. He died slowly and painfully; whereas the poor sergeant was victimized and suffered for his compassion by driving Assefa to the emergency ward.

Those are the details of what occurred. This dramatic and tragic story naturally riveted the attention of the entire nation, and the death of Assefa hardened public opinion against the aristocracy.

Ato Tefera's book contains a few discrepancies. In his summing-up, for example, he mentions that in the early 1950s Assefa "could find no employment and was naturally disaffected with the establishment" (P.247). Not so; from 1954 to 1959, Assefa enjoyed a brilliant career as a lawyer, winning a series of high-profile cases. He was disbarred for being brave enough to describe as "farcical" the proceedings against one client, Ato Makonnen Walde-Yohannes (the brother of the most powerful political figure from 1941 to 1955, Tseafe Tezaz Wald Geyougis). For this remark Assefa was cited for contempt of court and sentenced to three months in jail.

Assefa never worked for the Ministry of Pen. At the time Ato Teferra allegedly knew him, he was Assistant Private Secretary to the Emperor.

Another minor detail: the statement that Assefa's friend Rober Scott "employed him in his law office at the time of the death" (p.247) is incorrect. Although Assefa had at one time been employed by Mr. Scott and they had later been legal associates, and continued to maintain offices in the same building, Mr. Scott himself says, in an unpublished memoir, "By this time [i.e, the day of the gun battle], Assefa and I practiced separately."   

The writer also says that Assefa "had little formal education. In fact, he earned a degree in English literature while in prison, from Wolsey Hall, Oxford. He was enrolled in law school when he died.

So many errors within so few pages make me wonder how many more might be found within the 730 pages of Ato Teferra's book. It seems that a bit of fact-checking is in order. The new Ethiopian generation deserves a more accurate account for the country's sordid history than the rosy picture this book presents.    

Paulos Aseffa,
San Francisco,
California, USA