Two months from now, Italy will invade Ethiopia.
Italy already invaded Ethiopia forty years ago, in 1894.
And got their asses handed to them, earning the disgrace of being the first European great power to lose to an African nation.
Mussolini, drunk on the ambition of building a Second Roman Empire, wanted to conquer Ethiopia to wipe out that past humiliation and step up as a true great power.
At the same time, he’d link Eritrea and Somaliland by land and plunder Ethiopia’s resources to “revive” the economy.
If he really wanted to revive the economy, he’d cut military spending instead of preparing for war—but if that were possible, it wouldn’t be Italy.
“Italy will definitely invade Ethiopia in two or three months at most. Italian troops in Eritrea and Somaliland are already in place to back it up. Before the war breaks out, you’ll go to Ethiopia and convey my intent to the Ethiopians: Italy is coming soon, and I want friendly relations with you.”
“Understood, my Führer. But I do have a question.”
“Speak.”
“Germany has no real point of contact with Ethiopia at all. Is there any reason we should approach them first?”
Ribbentrop’s doubt was natural. Not Europe, just some African country—we don’t “need” to extend our hand first.
But I’d long since prepared the answer to that, too.
“First, we need to induce Ethiopia to fight Italy as bitterly as possible to sap Italy’s national strength. In Germany’s future development, Italy will be a stumbling block.
At the same time, if we establish friendly ties with Ethiopia, countries in similar straits will take a friendlier stance toward us. Germany doesn’t have many friendly neighbors. From Britain and France to Poland and the Soviet Union, they’re all hostile. So we turn outward and build a wider circle of friendly states.”
“But how much help could countries like Ethiopia really be?”
“That’s fair. I’m not expecting miracles either. What I care about more is image—image. If Germany wants to slip even a little out from under international scrutiny, we first need to redefine our image.
By marching into the Rhineland, we’ve put the world on alert again. But an Italian invasion of Ethiopia will swing the world’s gaze from Germany to Italy. If we ride that wave and publicly support Ethiopia—the victim—we can launder our image somewhat.
Lastly, Ethiopia has a wealth of resources—gold, iron ore, and more. If we’re friendly, we can source those easily. It’ll take time, but still.”
Only then did the darkness in Ribbentrop’s expression lift a little.
He still looked a bit skeptical of the plan itself.
“Very well. Then I’ll go to Ethiopia.”
***
“Is the preparation for invading Ethiopia proceeding well?”
Italy’s dictator and prime minister, Benito Mussolini, addressed Field Marshal Pietro Badoglio—far his senior—with haughty airs.
Badoglio despised the strutting little peacock who called himself prime minister, but in front of him he maintained scrupulous form.
“Yes, Duce. Everything is advancing according to plan.”
“As it should. In a great Italy there must be no such thing as failure. This time we will subjugate those uncivilized blacks and repay the shame of the last war.”
“I will bear it in mind.”
“His Majesty also strongly supports this expedition. If the war concludes successfully, your names will be recorded in history forever. A truly proud thing, no?”
“Yes.”
There he goes bragging again.
Inwardly, Badoglio mocked Mussolini as a clown aping Caesar.
He was sick of the blowhard’s sermons. He already had his hands full preparing the Ethiopian invasion.
“You have much to do as well. You may go.”
Finally freed from Mussolini’s harangue, Badoglio strode out of the residence.
Shorter than usual today. Still nauseating to hear, though.
“Well done, sir.”
Badoglio’s aide approached with his coat. His face showed both respect for the marshal and pity.
“I don’t know how much longer I have to listen to that idiot’s bullshit. First I’m going home for a bath, then I’m wetting my throat with wine.”
“I’ve already informed the orderlies.”
After Badoglio left, Mussolini stood alone in his office, staring holes into the world map on the wall.
Italy’s share of territory on that map looked far too small to him. Far, far too small.
Ethiopia, peopled by “savages,” could never stand against Italy.
The last war had been nothing but a pile-up of bad luck and coincidence. Ethiopia’s fate was to lie under Italy’s banner.
So it had to be.
After swallowing Ethiopia came Albania. Economically half-subjugated to Italy already, Albania wouldn’t be able to fend off an Italian invasion.
Not just Albania—Yugoslavia, Greece, Turkey, even Austria—would have to become parts of Italy.
Only then would the borders fit a “New Roman Empire.”
Britain, France, and Germany would be obstacles, but those could be overcome. This nation was Rome’s heir.
“And I am Italy’s Duce.”
Again today, Mussolini swelled with his grand dream of building a New Roman Empire.
***
“I am Joachim von Ribbentrop. It is a great honor to be received by Your Imperial Majesty.”
“I’m pleased to meet you as well, Minister Ribbentrop. Welcome to Ethiopia.”
Emperor Haile Selassie extended his hand first to Ribbentrop.
“I am Prime Minister Mekonnen Endelkachew. A pleasure to meet you.”
Ordinarily, Emperor Selassie would not have come himself; Prime Minister Endelkachew would have received the guests. But this visitor was too big a fish.
Not a diplomat from some small state in Africa or South America, but the foreign minister of one of Europe’s strongest countries—Germany.
And Ribbentrop was one of the Führer’s closest men.
Why had he come to Ethiopia?
Selassie was most curious about that, and insisted he personally meet Ribbentrop and speak with him.
“You must be tired from your long journey.”
“Not at all. It was a comfortable trip.”
Once they were seated, imperial attendants brought coffee and sweets. When the attendants withdrew, they went straight to sensitive business.
“I would appreciate an honest answer. What brings Germany’s foreign minister all the way to this distant land?”
Endelkachew spoke.
“I have come at my Führer’s command, Prime Minister. He instructed me to deliver this to His Imperial Majesty.”
“To me?”
Inside the envelope Ribbentrop produced was a handwritten letter from Germany’s Führer, Adolf Hitler.
When he handed it over, the emperor’s chief attendant received it.
A translator read the letter aloud in Amharic for Selassie and Endelkachew. As they listened in silence, both men’s eyes sharpened.
“I had suspected Italy would attack our country. It seems Germany thinks as I do.”
Selassie clicked his tongue. Ethiopia wasn’t stupid; they’d long since noticed Italian troop reinforcements in Eritrea and Somaliland.
They’d held back on diplomatic protests out of a sliver of hope—but there was no need anymore.
War would soon break out, and Ethiopia would pay dearly.
Endelkachew’s face fell. Selassie didn’t look good either.
The letter carried not only news of Italy’s preparations but the Führer’s message that Germany would support Ethiopia.
Germany couldn’t spare much, but the promise to supply rifles, grenades, machine guns, and various matériel for the Ethiopian Army surprised not only Selassie and Endelkachew, but even the translator.
“Minister, is this truly sincere?”
“The Führer does not lie. If he says it will be done, you may trust it.”
Ribbentrop took a sip of coffee.
Ethiopian coffee had a far stronger aroma and taste than the Brazilian coffee he drank in Germany.
Coffee from a country famous for coffee—of course it’s different. Quite good.
“We appreciate the Führer’s support, but why do so much for us? As far as I know, Ethiopia has never helped Germany in the past.”
The letter said Germany was aiding Ethiopia because the courage and resolve Ethiopians had shown in the past had deeply moved him, and he wished to maintain a long friendship with such a brave people.
Selassie was touched by that—but he was also certain that wasn’t the whole story.
There had to be another reason.
“Your Majesty is aware that in the Great War, Italy fought against Germany and Austria-Hungary?”
“I am aware of at least that much.”
“Then there’s your answer. The Führer is convinced that Italy—our former enemy—will trip Germany up in the future as well. Italy is Germany’s enemy, and Ethiopia’s enemy. Naturally, that means Germany and Ethiopia should join forces.”
Ribbentrop’s words flowed like a clear stream, and Selassie burst out laughing.
“I see. Well said. The enemy of my enemy is my friend!”
Selassie sprang to his feet, approached Ribbentrop, and extended his hand again.
“I know your Führer’s reputation well. I haven’t read Mein Kampf, but I’ve heard plenty that his judgment is exceptional in many ways. And indeed, it seems so.”
The Germany–Ethiopia meeting was a success.
Selassie hosted a banquet for Ribbentrop and the German delegation.
It was a lavish feast of Ethiopia’s finest delicacies.
The German delegation suffered, though—the cuisine didn’t agree with their palates.
On the day the German delegation departed for home,
two freighters left the port of Kiel bound for Ethiopia. Their cargo would be delivered to Ethiopia via British Somaliland.
October 3, 1935.
Italy invaded Ethiopia, and the Second Italo-Ethiopian War began.