Latest / The History of Portugal: The Small Nation That Built a Global Empire — Fexingo History / The Portuguese in Ethiopia: Missionaries, Emperors, and the Battle of Atsbi
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked about Portugal's maritime empire—the ships, the spice routes, the fortified cities from Goa to Macau. But there's another chapter that's less about the sea and more about a mountain kingdom in Africa: Ethiopia. And it's a story of faith, diplomacy, and a battle that changed the fate of the Horn of Africa. Luna: Oh, this is the Prester John thing, right? The legendary Christian king. Lucas: Exactly. For centuries, Europeans dreamed of a powerful Christian ruler somewhere to the east—Prester John. And when Portuguese explorers finally made contact with Ethiopia, they thought they'd found him. What they didn't expect was a real, ancient Christian kingdom that had its own politics, its own church, and its own enemies. The alliance that formed would be both a lifeline and a source of bitter conflict. Lucas: And you know, this show is ad-free, and that's a choice we make—it keeps these conversations clean, just you and us and the story. If you appreciate that, and you want to support that kind of independence, there's a link on our page—buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It's a small way to keep this going, no pressure at all. Luna: Yeah, it's a nice way to keep things simple. So, how did the Portuguese first even get to Ethiopia? It's not exactly on the way to India. Lucas: Well, it started with a spy mission. In 1487, King João II sent Pêro da Covilhã overland, disguised as a Muslim merchant, to scout out the spice trade and find Prester John. Covilhã traveled through the Middle East, even reached India, and then turned back to Ethiopia, where he was—well, he was essentially received as a guest, but he was also never allowed to leave. He spent the rest of his life there, and his reports eventually made it back to Lisbon. Luna: He was basically trapped, but he still got the message through. Lucas: Yes. And that planted the seed. Then, in the early 1520s, a Portuguese embassy actually reached the Ethiopian court—and they were amazed. Here was a Christian kingdom that had been isolated for centuries, with its own unique traditions, its own Bible, its own rituals. They also quickly realized this was not a land of peace and plenty. The kingdom was surrounded by Muslim states, and the most dangerous was the Adal Sultanate, led by a charismatic general named Ahmad Gragn—'Gragn' means 'the Left-Handed'. Lucas: In 1529, Gragn launched a full-scale invasion of Ethiopia with an army that included Ottoman-supplied musketeers and cannons. The Ethiopian forces, largely using traditional spears and bows, were devastated. Village after village burned, churches were looted, and many Christians were forced to convert or die. It was a catastrophe. The emperor at the time, Lebna Dengel, sent a desperate plea to Portugal: 'We are being destroyed. Send musketeers, send soldiers, send anyone.' Luna: So Portugal actually responded? That's a long way to go for an ally. Lucas: They did, but it took a while. A first small expedition arrived in 1541, but it was too late—Lebna Dengel had died, and his son, Galawdewos, was leading a resistance from the mountains. The Portuguese commander, Cristóvão da Gama—that's Vasco's son—landed with about 400 musketeers, plus some artisans and carpenters. They were a small force, but they had gunpowder and discipline. They also had a sense of mission: this was a crusade, a chance to save a Christian kingdom. Lucas: And it didn't go well at first. da Gama's force fought a series of skirmishes, but Gragn's army was larger and had Ottoman support. In one battle, da Gama was captured and executed—after being tortured, according to some accounts. The Portuguese were scattered, but they didn't give up. They regrouped and joined with Galawdewos's guerrilla fighters, who knew the terrain perfectly. Luna: So it's like a David and Goliath story, but with harquebuses. Lucas: Exactly. The decisive moment came in February 1543 at a place called Wayna Daga, near Lake Tana. The combined Ethiopian-Portuguese force, now under Galawdewos's command, caught Gragn's army in a valley. The Portuguese harquebusiers—about a hundred of them by then—played a key role, firing into the enemy ranks while Ethiopian cavalry charged from the flanks. Gragn himself was killed, shot by a Portuguese marksman, and his army fell apart. The Adal Sultanate never recovered, and Ethiopia was saved. Luna: Wow. So the musketeers really turned the tide. Lucas: That's the traditional story, but historians debate it. Some argue the Ethiopian cavalry was the real game-changer, and Gragn was already weakening. Still, the Portuguese presence—their firearms and tactics—was a significant factor. And the alliance seemed to be a great success. Galawdewos welcomed the Portuguese, even allowed them to build a small church. But beneath the surface, tensions were growing. Lucas: See, the Portuguese weren't just soldiers. They were Catholics, and they brought along Jesuit missionaries. The Jesuits, led by figures like Pedro Páez, were brilliant and learned—but they were also determined to convert the Ethiopian Orthodox Church to Roman Catholicism. That didn't go over well. The Ethiopians had their own pope, the Alexandria Patriarch, and their own theological traditions. They saw the Jesuits as arrogant and misguided. Luna: So the religious angle poisoned the political friendship? Lucas: Yes, and it got worse. In the early 1600s, a later emperor, Susenyos, actually converted to Catholicism, partly to get Portuguese military support. He made it the state religion, and that sparked a civil war. People rebelled, priests were killed, and the country was torn apart. Finally, in 1632, his son Fasilides took the throne and reversed everything. He expelled the Jesuits, closed the country to Europeans, and even destroyed their churches. Ethiopia became, essentially, sealed off again—for almost two hundred years. Luna: That's a drastic turn. So the alliance that saved them ended up being seen as a threat. Lucas: Exactly. And there's an irony: the very technologies and connections that helped Ethiopia survive also became symbols of foreign interference. The Portuguese were never able to establish a lasting colonial presence—they didn't want to, really. They just wanted an ally and a mission field. But the cultural collision was too deep. The expulsion of the Jesuits ended a chapter, and the next Europeans to enter Ethiopia would be different—explorers, not missionaries, and they'd come in the nineteenth century. Luna: So this really is a different kind of empire story—one that failed, in a way. Lucas: In many ways, yes. The Portuguese in Ethiopia achieved a military victory but lost the cultural war. It's a reminder that empires aren't just about ships and forts—they're also about ideas and beliefs, and those can be the hardest to impose. And Ethiopia remained a proud, independent kingdom, never colonized—not even during the scramble for Africa. That legacy, in part, was shaped by this forgotten encounter. Lucas: So next time you hear about Portuguese exploration, remember that the story isn't only about the sea. It's also about a landlocked kingdom in the mountains, where a handful of musketeers and a stubborn emperor wrote a different kind of history.