Jesuits in the Kingdom of Prester John

Des jésuites au royaume du prêtre Jean (Ethiopie): stratégies, rencontres et tentatives d'implantation, 1495-1633 by Hervé Pennec is another study of the Jesuits and the mission in Ethiopia. Since the scholarly literature and written sources on the topic is vast, Pennec proposes new interpretations and questions about the subject. While revisiting the sources and challenging readers to reconsider the strategies and tactics employed by both the Jesuits and ruler Susenyos, one can see that the topic of the Jesuits in Ethiopia and this transformation of Prester John of myth into the "real" Ethiopia which the Latin West engaged in the Early Modern Period still raises many questions.

The first third of the book begins with Portugal's early relations with the Christian kingdom of Ethiopia, and how Ignatius of Loyola (and others) mistakenly assumed the Abyssinian ruler was ready to submit to Christ. Relying on outdated information from Alvares, plus the issue of Bermudes and his claim to be Roman Catholic patriarch, confusion abounded. Despite being well-informed on some aspects of Ethiopia, the founder of the Jesuit order wrongly believed that Ethiopia was ready for submission to the papacy. Of course, Galadewos had no interest in doing such a thing, and the early wave of Jesuits in Ethiopia found themselves largely on the periphery. Still, despite their small numbers in the second half of the 16th century, Ethiopian religious literature engaged in a Christological written (and oral) debate with the Jesuit missionaries, particularly once Susenyos converted to Catholicism in 1622. Despite their complete lack of success in converting Ethiopian rulers, the early Jesuits did proselytize and preach to Luso-Ethiopians, maintaining Roman Catholicism among descendants of Portuguese in Abyssinia. Moreover, Goa, as the capital of Portuguese India and center of the Jesuit missions in the Orient, was also an early example of a periphery being arguably more important or essential for the survival of the Jesuit mission in Ethiopia than Rome, Portugal and Spain. Goa, much closer to the Jesuit missions and capable of receiving and sending information more quickly, shaped the decisions on personnel who were ultimately sent to Ethiopia. This was no simple matter, since Ottoman control of the Red Sea made the matter more difficult.

Pennec likewise focuses on how the Jesuits, once able to establish a foothold again in 1603, particularly with the arrival of Pero Paes. Whilst it would take several more years before an Ethiopian ruler converted to Catholicism, one can begin to see here the Jesuits establishing stone churches and residences (with Ethiopian workers and at least one Indian). By erecting churches in stone, some beautifully designed, the Jesuits were implanting themselves in the kingdom on a more permanent basis. By doing so, they were also increasingly drawn into what Pennec sees as royally-sponsored churches. Gifts of land (gult), money, supplies, and the involvement of Susenyos in the ceremony culminating the completion of churches was partly a way for Susenyos to assert his power. This meat that Susenyos, and his brother who converted to Catholicism before him, were incorporating the Jesuits into a familiar patter of royal sponsorship and assertions of power, particularly in Gojjam and around Lake Tana. While the Jesuits undoubtedly benefitted from receiving lands, supplies, funds, and elite backers, they were also part of a strategy of Ethiopian rulers to express their power, which even included enlisting the Jesuits (or the masons among them) to construct stone palaces and monumental architecture for him. This complex process was followed by the Jesuit experience in Ethiopia after the conversion of Susenyos. Part of this complex relationship was also due to Susenyos's desire for Spanish troops to be sent to Ethiopia to help him as a prerequisite for converting, while the Jesuits told him he would have to submit to the papacy before any European troops would come to his aid.

With the 1620s, Pero Paes died but Susenyos's conversion gave the Jesuits their legitimacy and renewed the mission by the arrival of more missionaries. Although a failure within ten years, as Susenyos abdicated and his son, Fasiladas, later exiled the Jesuits, one can see this experience as the zenith of the mission. More missionaries on the ground, conversions of more Ethiopians (although the numbers given by the Jesuits are problematic, it seems that Gojjam had more converts), and Susenyos sidelining his Catholic brother as a supporter of the Catholics. Nonetheless, the mission's short-lived success came to an end with Susenyos's abdication. Pennec's study is less focused on this period, highlighting how Paes and d'Almeida's histories of Ethiopia must be analyzed carefully for the ways in which the authors engaged with Ethiopian written sources, especially the royal chronicle on the reign of Susenyos. Paes especially, despite his nearly 20 years spent in Ethiopia and his familiarity with ge'ez and Amharic, must be interpreted for the ways they cite, paraphrase, and refute Ethiopian sources. For instance, the question of the metropolitan accused of fathering children, drinking, and abusing his ecclesiastical authority in Paes's redaction of the chronicle of Susenyos, and being involved in a revolt in 1617 against the king, may not necessarily be an insertion by Paes. It is possible that later versions of the chronicle after Susenyos's reign censored that segment of the chronicle, but Paes, who was of course biased against the metropolitan sent from Egypt, may have been closer to the truth.

The Extirpation of Idolatry in Peru

Pablo Joseph de Arriaga's The Extirpation of Idolatry in Peru is a fascinating report on the widespread maintenance of precolonial religious traditions and spirituality among indigenous peoples in colonial Peru. A Jesuit priest who promoted "visits" by priests to identify huacas, "sorcerers" and practitioners or observers of the pre-Christian faith, in order to destroy relics, mummies, huacas, and force "sorcerers" and those who still consulted them to cease, Arriaga is an important source on the nature of Andean indigenous religion and spirituality. For instance, one chapter provides a wealth of detail about the sorcerers or witches who plagued a coastal community, gathering at night to kill their victims through supernatural means. Supposedly, this league of witches honored a "lion" deity. 

Much of the text also describes other aspects of Andean religion, particularly the veneration accorded to huacas, mummified ancestors, and household gods or clan-affiliated gods and myths of origin. This information was considered very important for the clergy operating in these areas so they could better refute the "errors" of the Indians in the communities they served. Of course, Arriaga also reserved criticism for the Spaniards and Church, which often failed to actually educate the Indians about the fundamentals of the Catholic faith and failing to provide a good example to inculcate proper Christian values and practice. Furthermore, far too few priests actually mastered indigenous languages like Quechua or Aymara to give effective sermons or provide a fuller education to Indians about the "true" religion that they had been exposed to since the Spanish Conquest. 

While modern readers today might find much to lament or be disgusted by in Arriaga's account, it nonetheless helps us identify some of the religious practices and traditions of precolonial Peru. Unfortunately, we do not have more texts like the Huarochiri Manuscript to shed fuller light on what must have been the very detailed and regionally specific traditions, legends, fables, and huacas of more areas in colonial Peru. Arriaga's account on how the visits should work and the state of Christianity among Indians in the early 1600s helps fill in the gaps. 

Gods of the Andes

Sabine Hyland's translation of an important text by Blas Valera is very interesting for those interested in the Inca past. Blas Valera, a mestizo Jesuit, was a fervent believer in the study and use of indigenous languages to effectively serve and convert indigenous communities in Peru. Unfortunately, he perhaps went too far in the eyes of the Jesuit leadership and other religious orders. According to Hyland's introductory essay, Blas Valera was comparable to missionaries like Roberto Mobili, endorsing inculturation as the best path for converting people from different cultures. While this is not immediately apparent in this text, which mostly translates Relación de las costumbres antiguas de los naturales del Pirú. Essentially, Valera's pro-Indian views and his sympathetic portrayal of aspects of indigenous religion and spirituality were too heretical and eventually led to his incarceration and later removal to Spain. Sadly, much of his great manuscript on the history of Peru was lost during an English attack against Cadiz. But our old friend El Inca Garcilaso de la Vega, also a mestizo, found fragments of Valera's text and incorporated his data into the Los comentarios reales. 

The connection with El Inca Garcilaso is where Valera's influence seems especially profound. Although El Inca was from the old Cuzco elite via his mother's family, and could draw on oral history gathered through these relatives, Blas Valera had traveled across the colony and was able to gather information and observations from a variety of communities. Like El Inca, he was also a fluent speaker of Quechua but was able to use his linguistic skills to work among more indigenous communities. After reading the brief text translated here by Hyland, it becomes immediately apparent that much of the framework adopted by El Inca Garcilaso was based on Valera. Like Valera, he stressed the absence of human sacrifice in Inca religion and praised the strict laws and benevolent justice of the Inca imperial system. Moreover, Garcilaso also saw aspects of Christianity in Inca belief, almost portraying the indigenous religion as establishing the path for the true religion of Christianity brought by the conquest. This can be seen in the way Garcilaso stressed the sun cult as the main religion of the Inca, which was heavily supported and/or imposed across the Empire. One can see elements of a similar admiration of Andean religious beliefs in Blas Valera, who, despite the various superstitions and idolatries of the natives, also found admirable qualities such as the practice of making confessions and the various convents for nuns, or aclla. Of course, the two authors differed on the case of Atahuallpa, with Valera praising him and El Inca seeing him as an illegitimate, violent ruler who eradicated many elites in Cuzco.

The main importance of Blas Valera, besides his detailed account of Andean religious beliefs as he saw in the late 16th century, was his careful use of khipus and oral traditions to construct a history of the Inca. Indeed, unlike El Inca Garcilaso, Valera referenced various khipu and specialists in their interpretation for data on religious and political history. Naturally, this meant khipu could be used to record more than numerical data for censuses or supplies. Indeed, Valera references them for the history of religious practices as well as the history of political rulers. Khipu, to him, were as valid as other sources of information, like written accounts in European languages or oral traditions as reported to him by indigenous people. Why, for instance, El Inca Garcilaso only saw khipu as useful for recording numerical data and occasionally as mnemonic devices for speeches, may have been based on the different experiences of the two mestizos. Furthermore, Garcilaso left Peru while still relatively young and admitted to not inquiring into certain customs whereas Valera spent more time in Peru. This must also have been a source for Valera on some of the events that transpired during the Incan imperial period as well as pre-Inca rulers. These khipu were able to record, for example, the disputation of Amaro Toco, an amauta from the era of Inca rule. They were also references for information on the history of the convents for virgins. If only Valera's magnum opus was not lost, perhaps there could be even more information on how khipu were used to record historical and biographical data. 

Walatta Petros

This is a nice video on a remarkable Ethiopian woman. Due to our ongoing interests in Ethiopia and the Jesuits, the hagiographical literature on Walatta Petros is a fascinating text to tackle. 

Luso-Ethiopian Relations and Church Unification

Because it was co-written by Merid Wolde Aregay and frequently cited in Cohen's study of the Jesuit mission, The Question of the Union of the Churches in Luso-Ethiopian Relations, 1500-1632 was the next read on Solomonic Ethiopia. Although a short study of Luso-Ethiopian Relations and the failed unification of the respective churches under Roman authority, Aregay and Girma Beshah has written a cogent introduction to the complex topic of Portuguese-Ethiopian interactions beginning with the legend of Prester John and early contacts between the Latin West and the Horn in the late medieval period. While the authors do not seek to blame the Jesuits for the mission's failure or see in it a colonial relationship, they do acknowledge that expecting to uproot centuries-old customs and beliefs quickly was perhaps misguided. 

Ultimately, Susenyos, our Catholic negus, like Za Dengel before him, also lacked the means to effectively impose Catholicism. The dreamed for or expected Portuguese troops never arrived and resistance from the local clergy, nobility, and peasantry became too consistent and dangerous for Susenyos's rule to survive without freedom of religion. The role of peasant resistance in this process cannot be overlooked, and this essay suggests there was an aspect of class conflict expressed in the numerous revolts and rebellions. Indeed, if Za Dengel, as Crummey suggested, had hoped to win peasant support by attacking gult and building a new military base of peasant conscripts (presumably less destructive to the peasants than the older imperial military units), Susenyos alienated the peasantry with his imposition of Catholicism and the insecurity caused by frequent rebellions, Oromo raids, and banditry. 

As stated by later scholars on the Jesuits in Ethiopia, the Society of Jesus relied on the patronage of local rulers and elites. Once circumstances changed and those groups could not or would not back them, the Jesuit mission declined and often a mass support to rally it. Ethiopian Catholicism may have had that if Susenyos's brother, Sela Christos, had been able to rally forces around him and the defeated patriarch against Fasiladas. However, due to the forced conversions and general resistance to Roman Catholicism from above and below, one doubts local Catholics would have been able to stage an effective military resistance. Aregay and Beshah cite Jesuit sources suggesting over 100,000 local Catholics by 1630, but how many of these were the result of forced or coerced conversions or, perhaps like some of the conversions to Islam under Ahmad Gran, merely acts of opportunism or self-preservation in the face of a new boss or bully? One wishes Susenyos had found a way to consolidate his government and centralize the state without imposing Catholicism, perhaps a method that could have carried out some of Za Dengel's reforms with freedom of religion for Orthodox, Catholic, Muslims, Falasha, and "pagans." Ironically, his son would go on to establish a reinvigorated Solomonic dynasty that resisted the resurgence of the provincial nobility until the mid-18th century.

Jesuit Missionary Strategies in the Horn

Although we are still only beginning to grapple with the large body of literature on the Jesuits in Ethiopia, Cohen's Missionary Strategies of the Jesuits in Ethiopia (1555-1632) is a good overview on Jesuit strategies of evangelizing. Based on Portuguese, Jesuit, and Ethiopian sources, Cohen succeeds in demonstrating the key areas of religious, political, cultural, and theological contention and proselytization. Unlike other areas of Africa, Asia, or the Americas, the Jesuits perceived Ethiopia to be more "civilized" (like China and Japan) and an area of schismatic Christianity in need of reformation. For these reasons, the Jesuits employed sophisticated techniques of Christological debate, biblical exegesis, translation, theater, architectonics, and top-down evangelization based on the hopes of converting the emperor and nobility. The Catholic Counter-Reformation also influenced the Jesuit mission as a reformed Church sought to standardize rituals, centralize authority, and counter Protestant theological debate. 

Ethiopian Christianity's encounter with Roman Catholicism naturally led to conflict, evolution, and the discovery of shared commonalities. Jesuits, for instance, realized the Ethiopian Church drew from the same sources (the Bible, patristic literature). Both also shared a similar belief in the uses of icons and visual arts and the practice of Eucharist and baptism. Nonetheless, Ethiopian persistence in circumcision, anti-Chalcedonian perspectives, adherence to the Alexandrian See, lack of uniformity in some sacraments, observance of the Sabbath, and frequency of divorce revealed huge differences. The debate between the two Churches appears to have played a major role in fomenting Ethiopian religious literature that sought to clarify and define the tenets of the church. Some of this literature was clearly influenced by earlier Ge'ez translations of Church Fathers, and appears to have influenced subsequent internal theological debate within the Ethiopian Christian tradition. The Jesuit debate with local clergy and monks reminds us of their arguments with Buddhist priests in Japan. 

However, according to Cohen, the Jesuits did not properly prepare themselves for the centrifugal forces in Ethiopian Christianity which opposed them, particularly monastic clergy, members of the nobility, and the political crises and rebellions which forced Susenyos to restore freedom of worship. The near total conquest by Muslims in the 1500s had further fragmented the Church while ongoing Oromo expansion further weakened the authority of the Solomonic emperors. Perhaps seeing the absolutizing tendencies of the Jesuits as something that could strengthen their authority, Za Dengel and Susenyos favored the Jesuits. Unfortunately for the latter, Za Dengel's assassination and the inability of Susenyos to end revolts flight of hermits or monks, and stifle resistance to the prohibitions imposed on the Orthodox faith entailed an end of the mission when the political support from the top disappeared under the next emperor. Anyway, it looks like our next read into this topic will have to be either Caraman, the short work coauthored by Merid Wolde Aregay or the hagiography of Walatta Petros. 

The Christian Century

Due to a friend discussing the history of the Jesuits with us multiple times, we have endeavored to read about the order in various locales around the world. Although our original interest in the Jesuits derived from their history in Louisiana, Saint-Domingue and Ethiopia, our friend has sparked our interest in the Jesuit mission to Japan. Indeed, he actually proposed the idea of a comparative study of the Jesuit missions to Ethiopia and Japan, which prompted our reading of Boxer's The Christian Century in Japan, 1549-1650. Both offer an interesting cases of non-Western civilizations in which the Jesuits enjoyed some success before a brutal crackdown and expulsion. The two also raised tantalizing possibilities of early "westernization" of Japan and Ethiopia through religion and intellectual exchange at a moment of political turmoil or conflict. Furthermore, the two also closed off most contacts with Roman Catholic European powers while investing in ties with Protestant Europeans like the Dutch, albeit more successfully in the case of Japan than Ethiopia. Both cases culminated in the exile for those of Portuguese origins as well as prohibitions of Roman Catholicism although Catholic missionaries continued to secretly enter the two states. Last but certainly not least, the two missions included some rather remarkable Jesuits: Valignano, João Rodrigues Tçuzu and Pedro Páez who produced invaluable writings on the two regions.

The two obviously differ in some key ways, however. The Ethiopians were already Christians, albeit of an Orthodox persuasion. Moreover, the Portuguese enjoyed a very lucrative trade as an intermediary of Japan and China via Macao. The Red Sea, on the other hand, was not as economically vital to Portuguese interests and Jesuits often relied on Muslim and banyan traders and ships to reach Massawa. The Japanese were also, for a time, actively engaged in shipping and external trade through Red-Seal ships traveling across Southeast Asia (and even beyond). The Christian kingdom or empire of Ethiopia relied on Muslims for much of its international trade across the Red Sea or Indian Ocean. Another vast distinction can be seen in the success of the Jesuits in converting the most powerful personage of the Ethiopian government, Susenyos. The Jesuits in Japan enjoyed some success with Kyushu daimyo and were amicably received or tolerated by Oda Nobunaga and Hideyoshi but obviously never converted the heads of the central government. 

The two also differed in that the mendicant orders appear to have been a far more important factor in the intra-Christian squabbling in Japan than in Ethiopia. The missionaries in Japan also appear to have converted more natives, although the high estimate of around 300,000 cited by Boxer may be incorrect. Additionally, the Jesuits seem to have been more effective with seminaries in Japan, although relatively few Japanese were ordained as priests or became members of the Society. Perhaps the greater esteem the Jesuits had for the Japanese explained part of the difference, as they were contrasted favorably with the "blacks" of India by Valignano. One suspects the Jesuits may have also let their racial bias shape their perception of Ethiopians in a way that was not necessarily the case for the Japanese. 

Ultimately, as argued by Andreu Martínez d'Alòs-Moner, the Jesuit missions in Ethiopia, Japan and even Mughal India failed when local political conditions shifted and elites were no longer willing to support or tolerate them. According to Boxer, the Japanese were less dependent on the Portuguese for the trade in Chinese silks by the time of Ieyasu, while in Ethiopia local resistance to the Catholics and Susenyos led to his abdication and the restoration of the Orthodox Church by the next king. A shift in socio-political conditions or economic matters meant the flimsy foundations the Jesuits built could be eradicated or at least neutralized and gradually destroyed. From reading Boxer, one cannot help but think that a skillful combination of the proselytizing tactics of the mendicant orders and the Jesuits would have been necessary to ensure the survival of Catholicism. After all, the peasants and lower classes of the Japanese were the ones who persisted in their faith the longest after the strategy of converting daimyo and samurai failed. Perhaps had the Jesuits attempted more outreach among the peasantry and poor, they could have had lasted a little longer in Japan. As for their tactics in Ethiopia, they also appear to have mainly sought to work their way down from the elites but faced too mch resistance from the local clergy and monastic figures. The main pillar of support for the Jesuits there was the mixed-race Portuguese community, who after a few generations likely adhered to more Ethiopian traditions than those of Portugal. 

Boxer's account of the crypto-Christians, priests who entered as merchants after 1614, and the Shimabara Rebellion suggest that Christianity survived and even spread further across Japan after the 1614 edict. Nonetheless, without enough new Catholic clergy to guide them and the government's economic and political persecution of local Christians driving many to apostatize, the faith could not prosper or grow. In Ethiopia, the Ethio-Portuguese were eventually exiled without much of a legacy in Ethiopia besides the Indian and Indo-Portuguese influences in Gondarine architecture. It seeems to us that the "Christian Century" in Japan and the Jesuits in the land of Prester John represent a key moment in Portuguese/Iberian expansion of the 16th and 17th centuries as well as frustrated paths that could have drastically changed the trajectory of two regions in the early modern era. 

Envoys of a Human God

Several months ago, we were invited to participate in a reading group formed to devour several books on Ethiopian history, with an emphasis on the Jesuits. It took us quite some time to get to it, but we have been periodically reading whatever we can find on Ethiopian history, particularly the medieval and early modern eras of the Solomonic kingdom. Since there are so many studies and translated sources on the Jesuits in Ethiopia, we decided Envoys of a Human God: The Jesuit Mission to Christian Ethiopia, 1557-1632 to be a good introduction to a complex topic with such an ample documentary trail. Andreu Martínez d'Alòs-Moner's study contextualizes the Mission in the larger East of Jesuit missionary activity during the 16th and 17th centuries, an approach we appreciate due to our readings of Jesuit relations in the Americas and China. 

This is not to ignore the specificity and distinct place of Ethiopia in the Jesuit and Western Christian imagination. After all, Ethiopia's ruler has been associated with the Prester John and even the founder of the Society of Jesus conceived of Ethiopia's "restoration" into the Roman Catholic fold as one of the special projects of the order. And, of course, the Solomonic state's already Christian population was not the same as non-Christian Japanese or Chinese or Muslims and Hindus in India. But Jesuit perceptions of Ethiopian Christianity as wayward or aberrant because of the observance of the Sabbath, the widespread practice of circumcision, belief in the uniquely divine nature of Christ, excessive fasting and the negative influence of the Coptic Church of Alexandria made Ethiopians in need of a restitution of their original Roman tutelage. Several chapters explore these theological, political, and social differences between Ethiopian Christianity and the Catholicism of the Counter-Reformation and Jesuits. Some of these aforementioned differences in practice and interpretation led to problems for the missionaries that they could never resolve, particularly over their more pronounced use of icons and certain rites in public, which were perceived by Ethiopians as profaning the sacred mysteries. 

Unlike the previous historical works we have read which have touched upon the Jesuit interlude in Ethiopian history, Envoys of a Human God challenges previous scholarship's unproven assumptions. For example, the idea that the Jesuit missionaries were attractive to Susenyos because the order supported political absolutism is completely absent from the voluminous sources left behind by the Jesuits. Instead, Susenyos probably saw in the Jesuits and the Portuguese a cosmopolitan group whose support for rationalization of the royal court would have appealed to a ruler in a politically decentralized kingdom or empire with recent upheaval for much of the 16h and early 17th centuries. Of course, the impressive architectural and technological knowledge of Europe and India also appealed to Susenyos and their foreign textiles, exotic wares, and trade connections could not have hurt. Likewise, one cannot blame Mendes or Paez for the successes and failures of the overall Mission since their personalities and perceived policy differences were not significant enough to have caused the failure of the mission. Both Paez and Mendes pursued a policy of "Latinization" of Ethiopian Christianity through a top-down strategy of winning over Susenyos and key nobles. Both believed Ethiopian Christianity needed to be aligned with Catholic dogma and practice and were largely opposed to compromise. 

This lack of compromise and a few other practices of the Jesuits, unsurprisingly, sparked unrest, conflict, debate, and, eventually, outright rebellions that led to the fall of Susenyos and the restoration of the local Church. The Jesuit reliance on royal and local elite donors contributed to the precarious nature of the Mission, too. Perceived as attacking local traditions and beliefs, they further antagonized the population as recipients of land grants and donations which worried traditionalists fearful of losing land and influence. When one thinks about it in the larger picture, it is not surprising that the Jesuits failed so quickly after several decades because, as Envoys of a Human God argues, their moment of greatest success was in a period of socio-political transition with a sympathetic ruler whose patronage was necessary to maintain and expand. Once those conditions changed and the ruler was unable to fund or publicly support the Jesuits, they were exiled, persecuted, forced underground, or killed. Outside of a legacy in architecture, painting, and, perhaps, new theological discourse within Ethiopian Orthodoxy, the Jesuit legacy disappeared with the expulsion of the last Ethio-Portuguese or their complete assimilation by the late 17th century. As for what else happened to the converts to Catholicism is not entirely clear, probably due to a paucity of sources. We know several local Catholics faced persecution and execution but it would be fascinating to find out more about crypto-Catholic communities during the reign of Fasiladas and Yohannes. We have encountered the figure of 100,000 for local converts to Catholicism in other studies, which seems small, but the eventual suppression and disappearance of this population and those of mixed-race Ethio-Portuguese descent as a recognized group might suggest something about the nature of the state and nation-building in Gondarine Ethiopia. 

Last but certainly not least, one cannot understand the Ethiopia Mission without mentioning India, particularly Goa and Diu. Without the strong Portuguese base in Goa and relationships with banyan and Muslim traders passing between Diu and the Red Sea, the Portuguese would have struggled to send missionaries to the Ethiopian highlands. Furthermore, Indian craftsmen, masons, and building techniques (Indo-Portuguese and Mughal) seem to have clearly influenced Jesuit constructions in Ethiopia, an example of what the author calls architectonics that shaped Gondarine architecture long after the suppression of Catholicism in the 1630s and beyond. Undoubtedly, the Church infrastructure organized in Goa, and Indian artisans and masons were central to the project until the decline of Portuguese India and the Mission's greater reliance on Susenyos and local, elite backers. Indian textiles, artisans, architectural styles, and the cosmopolitan world of the Indian Ocean were a necessary background for the Jesuits to pass through Red Sea ports and enter Ethiopia. Despite never establishing a foothold in Massawa or the coast of today's Eritrea, which would have facilitated the Jesuits tremendously, Portuguese India served as an essential base for communication, supplies, educated missionary personnel, and skilled workmen 

Poncet's Voyage to Ethiopia

Charles Jacques Poncet's relation of his voyage to Ethiopia in the late 17th century is a fascinating portrait of the Funj Sultanate in today's Sudan and Solomonic Ethiopia under Emperor Iyasu I. Ostensibly voyaging to Ethiopia to provide medical services to the Ethiopian ruler, Poncet was involved with a plan to reintroduce the Jesuits into Ethiopia while also promoting the idea of an Ethiopian embassy to Louis XVI. As a reputable physician in Cairo, Poncet seemed perfect for the mission, and left behind a very flattering portrait of Ethiopia for his French and European readers. While the Jesuits never did become a significant force in Gondarine Ethiopia, and the Ethiopian embassy to France failed to reach the court of Louix XIV, Poncet is one of our richest sources on Ethiopia and the Funj Sultanate. 

Ethiopians may have distrusted Jesuits and Catholics, as well as practicing forms of discrimination against local Muslims, but Ethiopia from Fasiladas to Iyasu I cannot be said to have practiced isolationist policies. In addition to attempted overtures to the Mughals in India and the Dutch East India Company in Batavia during the second half of the 17th century, Poncet portrays close relations and economic ties between the Funj Sultanate and the Solomonic rulers of Ethiopia. Indeed, a brother of reigning king of Sennar was living at the court of Iyasu I, and trade ties were close between the two regions. One almost sees Ethiopia, and the capital Gondar, as being part of the larger "Sudanic" and Nile Valley trade systems that intersected with Mediterranean and trans-Saharan networks. In addition, Ethiopia benefited from the Funj's trade across the Red Sea and Indian Ocean while also having relations with the Ottoman Pasha in Massawa. Thus, Gondarine Ethiopia appears to have been a node in Sudanic, trans-Saharan, Northeast African caravan trade, and Indian Ocean networks that stretched to India and Europe. 

Unfortunately, Poncet did not provide more details on the movement of people and goods between the Funj Sultanate and Gondarine Ethiopia. Both rulers split the duties on cotton exported to Ethiopia from Sennar at the market town of Chelga, and "Gebertis" Muslims from Ethiopia seem to have played a key role in commerce between the states. Poncet also mentioned an Ethiopian in Sennar who had converted to Islam, a Joseph, who was executed. Nevertheless, it makes one ponder the links Gondarine Ethiopia may have already had with lands further west, such as Kordofan, Darfur, and the Lake Chad Region. If caravans were active between Borno and the Funj, and Muslim pilgrims from "Takrur" were possibly already traveling the "Sudan" road, perhaps Gondarine Ethiopia also looked to western lands for additional economic and political relations. This is pure speculation on our part, but we hope to learn more about Gondarine Ethiopia's relations with the Funj and other lands to the west in order to examine this larger African context. 

Jesuit Letters from Saint Domingue

 Due to a recent group project relying on the use of Jesuit sources from various corners of the world, we recently explored some of the order's correspondence from 18th century Saint Domingue, ably translated by C. Rivers. Based in Cap-Francais, the Jesuits established in northern Saint Domingue were active for several years (beginning in c.1704) before their expulsion. Building parishes, proselytizing among the enslaved African population, serving the poor and sick white populations, and writing to their superiors to justify their mission and the need for funding, their letters offer another perspective on French Saint Domingue. While one would like to read sources from the other religious orders active in Saint Domingue at the same time, especially the Capuchins who were in the colony previously, as well as the Dominicans in Léogâne, the Jesuit letters provide an interesting set of sources on slavery in northern Saint Domingue. The letters of Fathers Margat and Bréban, beginning in 1725 and ending in 1743, document the transformation of Saint Domingue into a slave-based plantation society. 

Fr. Margat's 1725 letter, for instance, sees the black population of the colony as the crown and glory of the Mission. By evangelizing and serving African and Creole slaves, they see the Jesuits as playing an important role in the colony. Certainly no abolitionist or modern-day anti-racist, Margat saw "Negroes" as simple, easy to convert ("little attached to their superstitions"), and reverent with regards to the sacrament of baptism. Already, in 1725, Margat hints at tensions with white planters, perhaps due to the blacks seeking the help of Jesuit priests to intercede on their behalf. Of course, like the Jesuit Relations from other corners of the world, Margat emphasized the isolation of the 18 missionaries, and their arduous work in a hostile climate (heat, tropical storms, mosquitoes, hurricanes). By 1729, Margat appears to be more exhausted and perhaps disturbed by the negative reports of the Mission's progress. For example, Margat's superior had received news of the failure of the Mission to convert the maroon or runaway slaves. He explained the failure as the result of a pointless mission to try to convert them, viewing the maroons as lawless, comparing them to highway bandits in France. Thus, Margat's letter is a testimony of the threat to colonial society posed by maroon bands, and an elucidation of the (partial) failure of the Mission to successfully convert the enslaved population. 

His 1729 letter also covered the "extinction" of the island's indigenous population. Perhaps due to the Jesuit Missions in the American mainland with native populations, Margat's superior expressed interest in possible outreach to Hispaniola's indigenes. Margat's letter explained the destruction of the indigenous population by drawing on de Las Casas, suggestive of French adherence to the "black legend" of the Spanish. Perhaps this points to the French viewing their colonial enterprise as superior to the results of the Spanish Caribbean. Of course, the Louisiana colony's settler population were about to enter into a war with the Natchez later that year, and had already engaged in brutal conflicts with the Caribs even earlier. Even more intriguing, Margat mentioned the "Indian" village of Boya in the neighboring Spanish colony. He described them as descendants of "Indian" fugitives hiding in the mountains who were discovered by hunters. The people of Boya, though unnamed as such as by Margat, were now mixed-race and Christian, but retained some of their past customs. However, due to their virtual disappearance from the island and non-existence in French Saint Domingue, Margat believed the "Negroes" were their primary focus.

Writing in 1732, Bréban's letter sheds even more light on the Jesuits and slavery in the colony. Accepting chattel slavery as the horrible cost of bringing "true religion" to Africans, Bréban condescendingly pointed out the positive and negative traits of the black population. According to him, half of the slaves were from "Guinea" and the Africans resisted their enslavement in various ways. Indeed, revolts on slaveships were not unheard of, and slave suicides were a frequent problem for the French. The fear of poisonings was real and legitimate, as the case of one slave poisoning more than 60 blacks of one of the wealthiest planters in the region demonstrates. Africans and their descendants also used song and satire to mock others, especially whites. Thus, despite their "crude nature" and the cruel laws and practices put in place against them, they constantly asserted their humanity and creativity in a variety of ways to survive. Marronage, mentioned in the letter of Margat, undoubtedly persisted. In fact, Bréban asserted that Jesuits often became intermediaries between runaway slaves and their masters.

Although he considered blacks "half-beasts" and thieves, Bréban was somewhat sympathetic to their plight. Blaming their masters and the white population as the principal obstacle to the Mission, he saw the vanity of clothing among the slaves as a flaw inherited from their masters. Moreover, they were thieves and liars because their masters did not provide the bare necessities of food and clothing. Consequently, one could not be surprised that the enslaved population was always stealing food, attire, or other items. The French were also abusing, raping, and torturing enslaved Africans, with one case going so far as an enraged Frenchman murdering nearly all of his "property." Overall, the French were an impediment to the Christian example or model behavior the Jesuits wished to impart to their charges. The excessive work schedule and lack of basic necessities forced slaves to use their little free time to cultivate their gardens in order to feed themselves, which got in the way of their attending Mass. Even free blacks were considered harsh slaveowners. And, as one could except from someone with a low opinion of Africans and having to confront a linguistic barrier, preparing slaves to receive Communion first required questioning them several times on Catholic faith.

Our final letter examined in the exercise, Margat's 1743 letter to Procurator General of the missions of the same Society in the Islands of America, is even more detailed than all the previous correspondence on the actual priests who served in the Mission. Going back to the beginnings of the Jesuits in the Caribbean, Margat connects the early Jesuit presence in Saint Domingue and the French Caribbean possessions. Much of the body consists of an overview of the various works accomplished by leading Jesuits int eh mission. Father Jean-Baptiste de Pers of Flanders received mention for his organizational talent, skill for working with blacks, and his historical notes. Fr. Olivier of Morin Parish was a defender of enslaved blacks. Fr. Boutin was perhaps the most exceptional for his piety, comprehension of African languages, and leadership in administering the "Negro" Mass. Besides their missionary work among African slaves, Margat included examples of the work of Jesuits on behalf of paupers, the sick, and groups like white sailors. Since many came to Saint Domingue seeking their fortune but few became wealthy, the Jesuits always had poor or unfortunate whites to assist in Le Cap. As one would expect for a work of its genre, Margat requested additional assistance while emphasizing the positive impact of the Jesuits.

Although we still hope to continue our reading of Jesuit sources on Saint Domingue and French "Empire" in this era, one can already see the seeds of future conflict between the Jesuits and whites in the colony. Even their mild criticism of the institution of slavery would have won friends among local planters. It would seem that their missionary work among the African captive population probably did have some degree of success, particularly with priests like Boutin willing to use Creole and learn African languages. To some extent, Haitian Catholicism probably owes more than we realize to the Jesuits in northern Saint Domingue. Just as the Catholic Kingdom of Kongo and Catholic missions to Arada in the 17th century may have likewise shaped the evolution of our faith and spiritual practices.