# Chapter Fourteen — Two Czars and Two Emperors

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## The Next-to-Last Czar of Russia

Like the sultan of the Ottoman Empire, the czar of Russia still clung to his power as the absolute ruler of his huge country.

In 1889, the year that the last emperor of Brazil left his country and sailed to France, the czar of Russia was Alexander III of the royal Romanov family. He had inherited the throne of Russia from his father, Alexander II.

Alexander II was the czar who had sent Russian soldiers down to attack the Turkish Empire and take Turkish land away. But although he was a warlike czar, Alexander II had also tried to make Russia a little bit more Western, and a little bit more modern. He built railroads and new schools. He gave newspaper editors and writers more freedom to say whatever they wanted. He gave the towns of Russia permission to govern themselves. He even decreed that anyone accused of a crime had the right to be tried by a jury (a group of ordinary people, just like them), rather than being sentenced by a judge; that way, powerful, corrupt judges could not convict innocent men unjustly.

But only three years after the Russian victory over the Turks, Alexander II was killed by two assassins, who threw a bomb into his horse-drawn carriage as he was being driven through the streets of St. Petersburg.

Alexander III became czar in his father’s place. He was thirty-six years old, a huge man—six foot four—with wide shoulders and a big dark beard. He had seen his father killed by his own people, and for his entire reign, Alexander III was afraid that he too would be assassinated.

As soon as he became czar, Alexander III began to take away the new freedoms of the Russian people. He cancelled Alexander II’s decree that towns could govern themselves. He gave the noblemen of Russia special powers, including the right to oppress the poor peasants who worked on their land. Anyone who opposed him or criticized him was sent to the frozen north of Russia—the dreaded land of Siberia, where temperatures dropped to thirty degrees below zero in the winter, and didn’t get above freezing even in August. Later, it was said, “Alexander set out to undo everything that his father did.”

The noblemen of Russia approved of Alexander’s unlimited power. In the year 1891, after Alexander III had reigned for ten years, one of his officials wrote a long essay in praise of his greatness. In the essay, the nobleman quoted an old poem:

> > Our White Czar is a king above kings …\
> > All the hordes have bowed down to him,\
> > All the tribes have submitted to him,\
> > Because the White Czar is king over kings.

Then he wrote, “\[The czar possesses\] the unseen favor of a bright and spiritual power, creating and maintaining all \[that is\] around him. … Russia is the source and center of an invincible might … the most precious of our national traditions—autocracy.” He was saying that the unlimited power of the czar (*autocracy*) was what made Russia great.

Naturally, the noblemen of Russia were happy to believe that the czar had divine power, and that his power should be unlimited. Under the rule of Alexander III, the noblemen had privileges, riches, and power!

But the poor people of Russia were wretched.

To the peasants, farmers, and workers of Russia, Alexander III was a cruel tyrant. The Russian writer Mary Antin, who lived in a Jewish village between the Baltic and the Black Sea, wrote that even the children knew about the cruelties of Alexander—but no one criticized the czar, because they were afraid of Alexander’s police:

> > In your father’s parlor hung a large colored portrait of Alexander III. The czar was a cruel tyrant—oh, it was whispered when doors were locked and shutters tightly barred, at night … and yet his portrait was seen in a place of honor in your father’s house. You knew why. It looked well when police or government officers came on business. The czar was always sending us commands—you shall not do this and you shall not do that—till there was very little left that we might do, except pay tribute and die. One positive command he gave us: You shall love and honor your emperor. In every congregation a prayer must be said for the czar’s health, or the chief of police would close the synagogue. On a royal birthday every house must fly a flag, or the owner would be dragged to a police station. … The czar always got his dues, no matter if it ruined a family.

The Jews of Russia were treated even worse than other poor Russians. They paid more taxes; they were forced to live in certain areas of Russia, and weren’t allowed to move wherever they pleased. Very few Russian Jewish children were allowed to go to school, and those who were found that “their school life was one struggle against injustice from instructors, spiteful treatment from fellow students, and insults from everybody.”

Alexander III had been czar for seven years when assassins tried to kill him, just like his father. He was riding in the royal railroad coach with his family when a bomb went off beneath the tracks. The railroad coach lurched off the rails, tottered, and fell, the roof collapsing inwards and the windows shattering. For a moment, nothing moved in the wreckage. And then the crumpled roof shuddered and began to rise. Alexander’s huge figure rose out of the ruined coach, his wide shoulders braced beneath the roof. He held it up until his family could crawl out from beneath the twisted metal. Not a single person was killed!

But doctors think that the bruises and the strain of lifting the roof damaged Alexander’s body. He was czar for six more years, but he grew slowly weaker and sicker. When he died in 1894, he left behind him a Russia filled with poor, starving peasants, proud, overbearing noblemen, and unhappy workers.

His son Nicholas II inherited the throne and a country of discontented subjects. Some Russians wanted a Western government of elected representatives, like the United States and Canada had. Others wanted the working people of Russia to be able to control the land and government of their own country.

How would Nicholas II deal with this troubled Russia?

He had no idea! When he learned of his father’s death, Nicholas grew pale. “What will I do?” he said to the messenger who brought the news. “I am not prepared to be the czar. I know nothing about the business of ruling!”

Maybe Nicholas II wasn’t prepared to be the czar—but he had no choice. He shouldered the job of ruling Russia. He didn’t know that his father Alexander III had been the next-to-last czar.

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## Ethiopia and Italy

By now, most of Africa was under the rule of European countries. Great Britain, France, Germany, Portugal, and Belgium had seized most of the continent for themselves. Only two African countries remained free from European rule. On the western coast, Liberia, a country formed by the United States as a home for freed slaves, had the right to govern itself. But Liberia was a *protectorate* of the American government, which meant that anytime Liberia wanted to deal with another country, it had to get permission from the United States. So although Liberia wasn’t ruled by another country, it wasn’t truly independent.

All the way across the vast Sahara Desert, on Africa’s eastern edge, lay the country of Ethiopia—the only part of Africa that remained truly free.

Ethiopia, filled with mountains and high plains, was sometimes nicknamed “the roof of Africa” because it was so much higher than the lands around it. Right down the middle of Ethiopia runs a huge valley called the Great Rift Valley. And although most of Ethiopia is so high, the lowest land on the earth’s surface is also found in Ethiopia, at one end of the Great Rift Valley. Here, the ground has thinned and sunk and thinned and sunk until it is 371 feet below sea level—so far down that lava boils just below the surface and bubbles up through the earth. This low place, called the Danakil Depression, is too hot for a normal thermometer. A thermometer would explode before it could register a temperature! The dirt itself is colored green and blue and orange by the minerals in the ground. One European, gazing into the Danakil Depression in amazement, called it “the hell-hole of creation”!

But most of Ethiopia, far from being a “hell hole,” was a prize that at least one European country was anxious to win. The Italian government had its eye on the only free African country.

Ethiopia would soon have to protect itself against Italian invasion. But before the Ethiopians could face this threat, they had to solve a problem of their own: Their country had two emperors.

One of these emperors, named Yohannes IV, came from a northern part of Ethiopia called Tigre. The other, Menelik II, came from the center of Ethiopia, an area named Shewa. Both Yohannes and Menelik claimed that, by right, *he* was the emperor of Ethiopia, the man who deserved the traditional Ethiopian title “King of Kings.”

But Yohannes and Menelik didn’t dare start an open war with each other. Italy was hovering on Ethiopia’s borders. Down south, Great Britain was growing stronger and stronger. Just to the west, the country of Belgium was greedily expanding its territory in Africa. If a civil war began in Ethiopia, with the Ethiopians spending their money and energy fighting each other, these European countries could just swoop in and take over.

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Both Yohannes and Menelik had already tried to make alliances with different European countries. British soldiers had helped Yohannes get rid of the Ethiopian emperor who came before him—so that he could seize the throne. And Menelik had been buying weapons from both Italy and France. He even sent an Ethiopian Christian priest to these two countries, to help him negotiate good prices for guns.

Yohannes and Menelik both knew that these alliances would make it easier for European countries to take control of Ethiopia. So they made a deal with each other. They decided that Yohannes would have the title King of Kings. But Menelik would get to be the king of the center of Ethiopia. And both men agreed to be allies and fight side by side if a European army invaded.

During his rule as King of Kings, Yohannes managed to fight off an Egyptian invasion of Ethiopia, keeping his country free from the control of the Egyptians to the north. Meanwhile, Yohannes and Menelik ruled their own territories. They were polite to each other. They plotted against each other, while trying not to get caught. They made deals with Italian and British army officers in order to get more weapons. And each one hoped that the other would drop dead.

In 1889, Menelik got his wish. Yohannes IV led his soldiers into battle against invaders from the west—and was shot. As he died, he whispered, “Make my son king!”

Menelik didn’t have any intention of allowing Yohannes’ son to become King of Kings. Instantly, he declared himself emperor. Yohannes’ army, which had fallen apart after Yohannes was shot, was too disorganized to prevent him.

Menelik began his reign by trying to protect his country from the Italians. Only months after Yohannes IV died, Menelik made a deal with the Italians. He promised them that they could take a tiny coastal area as an Italian colony, as long as they agreed to respect Ethiopia’s independence.

But Menelik had been tricked. The treaty he signed with Italy had two different versions. The version written in Menelik’s language said that if he wanted to, Menelik could ask Italy’s advice on dealing with other countries. But the version written in Italian said that he *had* to ask Italy’s permission before dealing with any other country.

This treaty had turned Ethiopia into a protectorate of Italy. It would make Ethiopia like Liberia—a country that wasn’t truly free. The Italians sent copies of this treaty to Great Britain, Germany, and Belgium in order to prove that Italy now controlled Ethiopia. When Menelik appealed to Queen Victoria of England for help, she refused to deal with him—because the European countries had agreed not to interfere with each other’s territories.

Menelik had only one choice. He had to go to war to reject the treaty.

The Italians assembled their soldiers on the coast that Menelik had given to Italy as a colony. They marched into Ethiopia, not expecting much opposition. The whole Italian army had less than fifteen thousand men in it.

But Menelik was ready for them. He had already traded African ivory to European gun dealers in exchange for modern weapons. Now he used these weapons to arm his own soldiers—and assembled an army of over a hundred thousand men.

When the Italians met the Ethiopians at a mountainous place called Adowa, they were horrified to see that they were outnumbered more than five to one! They had such bad maps that they didn’t know where to hide, or how to get away from the huge Ethiopian army. And as the battle began, a huge rain storm poured down and confused the Italians even further.

Almost three quarters of the Italian army was killed. The others fled. Menelik’s men began to chase them, but Menelik called them back. He allowed the Italian survivors to return to the coast. Menelik knew that the Italians would be too embarrassed to attack again.

They were. In fact, the Italian government in Rome agreed to sign a *real* treaty recognizing Ethiopia’s independence. Menelik also convinced Great Britain and France to sign similar treaties. Now, all three of these countries would watch each other. If Italy, Great Britain, or France tried to invade Ethiopia, the other two would stop it—because none of these countries wanted any of the others to gain any more power in Africa.

The Battle of Adowa, in 1896, proved to be the only time that an African country was able to fight off European invaders. Alone in Africa, Ethiopia had kept its power. And Menelik II had earned the title “Lion of Africa.”

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