The Life of Walatta-Petros

The Life of Walatta-Petros was not what we expected. Unfortunately, we made the mistake of acquiring the concise edition, so we are missing all the extra references, commentary, and analysis of the translators. Furthermore, we are missing several sections or chapters, although the concise edition probably contains the most important parts of the text. Nonetheless, this was a useful primer for grappling with Ethiopia's hagiographical literature. While the translation or some of the analysis of it has aroused controversy (the idea that Walatta-Petros was expressing lesbian or same-sex desire always struck me as far-fetched and absurd, particularly with one anecdote in the text illustrating the abbess's opposition to such a thing among the sisters), this hagiography was written within decades after her death. So it does appear more grounded, despite the appearance of several miracles. One almost gets a sense of what was going on 17th century Solomonic Ethiopia. Certainly among its religious communities, at least, and the extent to which Church and State were closely entwined.

Our main interest in the text was the Jesuits and the opposition they aroused among the local Orthodox Christians. Most of the references to Roman Catholicism in the concise edition only allude to the "filthy" faith of the Europeans, or mention the intransigence of Walatta-Petros to Susenyos's attempt to impose Catholicism. In spite of her literate background and the occasional mention of local theologians, Walatta-Petros did not actively debate the Jesuits. And when did she convert a Catholic noblewoman, it was through her humility rather than theological or intellectual debate. Besides one episode with what may have been the Catholic Patriarch, much of the text emphasizes Walatta-Petros's opposition to Susenyos, his persecution of her (but never going far enough to execute her because of her husband and aristocratic lineage), and her various sites for her religious community. In a lowland region, Zhabey, she is sent as a captive to a "black" man serving Susenyos. This part of the hagiography seems particularly interested in emphasizing a distinction between Habasha as neither black nor white, although one wonders if Ethiopian Christianity borrowed early color symbolism of the patristic literature. 

Since we have not read the full text, we will revisit this one. It's fascinating to read about monastic Ethiopian Christianity of the 17th century because of the development of Sufi Islamic settlements in Air and Borno during the same era. Of course, the Christian monastic tradition of Ethiopia has left behind more written sources, but communities like Kalumbardo in Borno might represent an Islamic equivalent of sorts, of religious and spiritual transformation and development that engendered new dynamics. Then there's a parallel of sorts with Church and State, as Umar b. Idris killed and exiled the first Kalumbardo leaders. One would be hard-pressed to find any woman recognized as a spiritual leader in this era of Borno's past, however.