------------------------------------------------- [u][b]June 2nd: Ras Hotel, Addis Ababa[/b][/u] ------------------------------------------------- The African Congress had no building. It was not an official government of any kind, but a loose set of agreements between nations, and though Addis Ababa was its official host, they had no designated space for their meetings. The Emperor of Ethiopia paid for them to use the Ras Hotel's convention space when they needed to meet, lining the marble walls with the flags of the participant countries. It was a nice place at least, built to the standards of the high class hotels of Europe and America, though some amenities like the convention space received very little use within the context of Ethiopian society. Benyam Felege, Ethiopia's Minister of Foreign Affairs, sat next to his and the Emperor's guest, Reginald Heap. Benyam was an aging man with a horseshoe of white hair drawing the boundaries of his baldness. Age made him lean on the side of plump, but he still moved well enough. The motion to bring Rhodesia into the African Congress had just came to the floor. James Lutalo, Chairman of the Swahili People's Republic, was here in person. Benyam knew what that meant. He wasn't surprised when Lutalo walked up to the podium. He struck a dramatic figure, wearing military fatigues and a black cap with a red star on it, neither of which were particularly strange for a leader of the Swahili communists. But what stood out was his steel breastplate. When he spoke, he sounded as if he were giving a passionate speech to his men before they went over the trench. "Nationalism is a thirst for blood. That is its purpose. The nationalist does not draw borders, he draws battle lines, for that is where he will slake his thirst in years to come. The black man knows this. We are not nationalists. We dwell in a living, breathing land. We are part of the fabric of this continent, and our relationships are natural and peaceful, not only with each other, but also with the land we call home. The white nationalist cannot integrate into our civilization. That is why, in front of my fellow Africans and for their sake, I exercise my veto as a founding member of the African Congress. Rhodesia will not enter the African Congress so long as free Africans still have rights." Reginald heap seemed bothered and offended, but Benyam knew what came next. When Lutalo showed up, he'd set in motion a specific order to the proceedings, and Benyam had a part to play. It was unavoidable. What he did next was as necessary for his job as putting bread into the oven is for the baker. "I want the record to show that Ethiopia objects to the Chairman's statement." Benyam started. Reginald Heap looked up at him like he was a hero about to do battle. "State your objection." the presiding officer said. Benyam nodded graciously and began. "You say that white nationalism is unnatural because they bring war, and the black race lives in peace. Is your own people not evidence against you? Did Kampala not recently come under attack by revolutionaries within your government?" "The Freedom Army of God is a fringe group. They are terrorists and enemies of the people, and they will be dealt with like dogs." Lutalo said. He was misleading the others and himself when he lead with the Freedom Army of God. That [i]was[/i] a fringe group; a collective of misfits held together by the extreme form of Protestantism they'd found in English missions after their own people didn't want to associate with them. But they were only part of the coalition aligned against his Kikomunisti Party, and it wasn't FAG that kept Lutalo up at night. It wasn't even the Kingdom of Buganda, though they were the backbone of that coalition. What spooked Lutalo the most were the [i]Watu wa Uhuru[/i]: the Free People, Swahililand's anarchist party, and their creative leader, Marcel Hondo-Demissie. Benyam knew all this. It was his job to know. Part of what made the Anarchists so frightening was that they recruited from Lutalo's own base. Lutalo saw himself as a disciple of Hou Sai Tang, but not everybody on the left looked up to the Chinese example. There was a faction of primarily western Communists that derided China as "The Hou Dynasty". This group loved to spread an old rumor about Chinese revolutionaries marching into Beijing under a version of the Qing flag with the yellow swapped for red. Those yellow-scare tactics worked on some Africans, who saw the Houist philosophy as a guide to King-making, and who believed Anarchism to be the true path to revolution. "So they do not live as part of the fabric of this country? In natural and peaceful relationships?" Benyam said. Lutalo slammed on the podium. "I am offended that Ethiopia would chose to defend the tactics of Rhodesia. What kind of leadership is this? Are all monarchists traitors to their own people?" "Be more grateful for the monarch, friend Lutalo. The Emperor is paying for both your dinner and your room." "The veto stands." Lutalo glared like a revolutionary who just commandeered a camera. "Rhodesia will not enter the African Congress." And like that it was done. The motion was rejected. Rhodesia was to be excluded. Everybody knew this was going to happen, even Desta Getachew's memos to government officials spoke of inevitable defeat. Politics isn't just grand victories and solid treaties. Ethiopia's stance throughout the process had been one of "Good cop." They knew how Lutalo would act, and they knew that Lutalo was a threat, so making a good impression on their southern neighbors was their entire goal, nothing more then that. "That's it then?" Reginald leaned over and asked. "I'm afraid so." Benyam said, standing up. "We can work out other deals, between our nation and yours." "I appreciate that, good fellow, but my superiors will not be happy with a rebuff like this. I'm afraid my countrymen altogether will be like a man sent away to his mistress. Where else should we go but to the embrace of the fat wife?" "I cannot promise the same deals to Britain. If your intentions are to return to that old wife, my countrymen will be very disappointed." "I don't like it either, but I cannot control the girl. Rhodesia has a mind of her own." "The female metaphors are giving me a headache." Benyam said. "Good luck in your country, sir. I hope we speak again." "Good luck." Heap smiled, "And thank you." They shook hands and parted. The ambassadors and delegates spread about the room. It was claustrophobic, and Benyam started toward the doors to the porch to get some air. He was stopped by a glowering James Lutalo, standing like a warrior guarding his King from an intruder. "Mr Lutalo." Benyam said, "Rousing speech." "Are you opposed to the needs of the great Swahili people?" Lutalo challenged. "No. You won as I recall." "If Ethiopia is so against us, we can become independent." "Don't make that move." Benyam stood up straight, "You know the stakes. Do you know that the Rhodesians are looking at the possibility of reentering the British fold? You think when they are done, they might not have a score to settle with the uppity negro Houist in British East Africa?" "It's been thirty years." Lutalo didn't waver. "Grudges can last lifetimes. That's the nature of our relationship, Chairman. Don't pretend you are doing us a favor." "You aren't doing the Swahili Republic a favor either." "Exactly." Benyam pressed a finger onto the Chairman's steel breastplate. "We're on this mountain together. We don't have to be friends, but we need to be comrades. Now if you excuse me, sir, I have an appointment with a Cornell." Lutalo stepped out of the way and let him pass. The outdoor air felt like freedom. He leaned against the wall and took out a cigarette. The Ras was located in the business district in front of the Gebi Iyasu. Around him were stubby buildings, paved roads, and waiting cycle rickshaws. Everything went the way Benyam knew it would. It had went the way Desta Getachew knew it would. But there was a major X factor in Ethiopian politics. How would the Emperor react? Would he even care? That was all beyond Benyam's control, and he resigned himself to that fact. Better men then him lost their minds worrying about things outside of their control.