Assab, Eritrea has Never Been Part of Ethiopia

By David Yeh

Assab in the Hall of Mirrors: Myth, Power, and Manufactured History

Assab has lately been dragged into a hall of mirrors where ignorance parades as history and repetition is mistaken for evidence. From Ethiopia’s prime minister down to the lowest Prosperity Party apparatchik, many of whom could not locate Assab, or Eritrea, on a map, the port has been repackaged as a lost Ethiopian possession. The fantasies have grown so detached from geography that one could be forgiven for thinking Assab lies on Lake Tana, simply because the phrase “Bahir Daricha” (“sea coast”) is repeated often enough.

At the center of this mythology is a stubborn fabrication recycled by Prosperity Party pseudo-intellectuals: the claim that Assab was “secretly sold” to the Italian shipping firm Rubattino without the knowledge or consent of Shoa’s Menelik II. Despite being exhaustively debunked, this tale continues to surface in Prosperity Party books, quasi-academic writings, and media commentary, treated as settled fact by those who value narrative convenience over historical discipline.

A serious look at the historical record makes short work of the claim. It collapses instantly. It belongs to the same genre as other familiar Abyssinian politico-religious myths: assertions that the Ark of the Covenant was stolen and brought to Ethiopia, that the Yemeni Queen of Sheba was Ethiopian, that she bore Solomon a son who established a Solomonic dynasty, that Mary, mother of Jesus, herself was Ethiopian, and so on. These stories endure not because evidence supports them, but because they satisfy political longing and psychological need.

Assab has now been absorbed into this myth-making tradition, where insistence substitutes for proof and fantasy is recycled as scholarship. The bitter irony is that some of the loudest champions of this fabrication, those most insistent that Assab was “Ethiopian”, the likes of Abiy Ahmed, Bacha Debele, Berhanu Jula, Abba Dula Gemeda, descend from communities that Abyssinian rulers themselves never recognized as “Ethiopian” in the first place. If there is a case study in historical inversion and political Stockholm syndrome, this is it.

What follows is not a polite exchange with folklore or a seminar in nationalist fantasy. It is a confrontation with history: documented, chronological, and unforgiving. And history renders a clear verdict: the tale of a “Rubattino sale without Menelik’s knowledge” is not an alternative interpretation, not a contested reading, but a convenient fiction dressed up in academic costume and paraded as fact.

The Sapeto Initiative: How Assab Entered Italian Colonial History

As documented in Professor Yemane Mesghenna’s 1988 book: Italian Colonialism: A Case Study of Eritrea, 1869–1934: Motive and Praxis, and Zemhret Yohannes’ 2010 book “Italyawi megza’ti ab iertra” (Italian Colonialism in Eritrea) the origins of Italian colonial involvement in Eritrea begins with Giuseppe Sapeto, an Italian monk, colonial agent, and member of the Order of San Lazzaro.

Sapeto first arrived in the Horn of Africa in the late1830s under the auspices of missionary activity, with the French explorers Antoine and Arnaud d’Abbadie. Touring the lowlands and coastal regions of present-day Eritrea, Sapeto quickly evolved from missionary to outspoken advocate of European penetration of Africa. Before Italian unification, he promoted French colonial ambitions; after 1866, he redirected his efforts toward Italian expansion.

With the Suez Canal nearing completion, Sapeto envisioned an Italian coaling station and port of call on the Red Sea to service steamships and advance Italy’s strategic interests. He successfully persuaded the Italian Foreign Ministry and King Vittorio Emanuele II of the value of securing such a foothold.

In the autumn of 1869, Sapeto was dispatched by the Italian government to the Red Sea alongside Admiral Acton, then Minister of the Navy, to identify a suitable site and arrange its purchase. On 15 November 1869, Sapeto concluded an agreement with the local rulers, Sultan Ibrahim bin Ahmad and his brother Sultan Hassan bin Ahmad, acquiring approximately 18 square kilometers of territory between Mount Ganga and Cape Lumah for about 6,000 Maria Theresa thalers (roughly 47,000 Italian lire). A down payment of 4 percent was made, after which Sapeto returned to Italy to secure the remaining funds. Sapeto had successfully argued, from the Italian perspective, that Assab, due to its proximity to the Bab el-Mandeb, it is better alternative to existing ports on the African side of the Red Sea such as Massawa, Beilul, Tadjourah, and Zeyla. To complete the purchase, the Italian government arranged for the shipping magnate Raffaele Rubattino to provide the remaining funds. The Red Sea property was then registered in Rubattino’s name but explicitly held for Italian national interests. Only after this acquisition is when Assab begins to develop as a port.

In 1882, Rubattino formally transferred Assab to the Kingdom of Italy, concluding a process that was open, well documented, and entirely consistent with nineteenth-century colonial practice. This transfer marked the clear beginning of Italy’s ambition to establish a colonial presence along the Red Sea.

By 1885, Italian forces had taken control of Massawa, replacing the Egyptian administration. By 1889, they had occupied Asmara and declared the Mareb, Belesa, and Muna rivers as the boundary with Abyssinia.
On 1 January 1890, Italy formally proclaimed its Colonia Primogenita, its first colony in Africa, establishing Massawa as the capital and naming the territory Eritrea—a designation derived from the Red Sea (Mare Erythraeum in Latin, al-Baḥr al-ʾAḥmar in Arabic, and በሐር (ባሕሪ) ኤርትራ in Tigre and Tigrinya). From that point onward, Eritrea entered history as a distinct political entity, shaped by events that followed. In 1900, the capital was transferred to Asmara, completing the administrative framework of the colony.

The Menelik Fiction: A Claim Defeated by Dates and Geography

The Assab transaction predates the reign of Emperor Menelik II by nearly two decades. Invoking Menelik in connection with the acquisition of Assab is therefore not a misunderstanding but a fabrication—chronologically impossible and historically indefensible.

When Giuseppe Sapeto concluded the Assab purchase in 1869, the Emperor of Abyssinia was Wagshum Gobeze of Lasta (Tekle Giyorgis II, r. 1868–1871), followed by Kahsay Mirach of Tembien (Yohannes IV, r. 1871-1889). Menelik, then Sahle Maryam of Shoa, did not ascend the Abyssinian throne until 1889. During the period in question, he had not even consolidated authority over Shoa; he was a subordinate first to Tekle Giyorgis and later to Yohannes IV. He was in no position, politically, militarily, or legally, to exercise sovereignty over the Red Sea coast.

At the time of Italian purchase of Assab, the entire coastal stretch from Massawa to Berbera lay under Egyptian sovereignty, with residual Ottoman claims layered over it. Abyssinia had neither jurisdiction nor effective control over Assab. By the time Menelik became emperor, Italy had already consolidated its hold over what is now Eritrea and fixed its southern boundary along the Mareb–Belesa–Muna line. Whatever Menelik’s later ambitions, Assab was never among his possessions, nor could it have been “sold” without his knowledge—because it was never his to sell, nor even within his reach.

As one contemporary formulation put it, Menelik himself recognized this reality: the lands north of the Mareb were not Abyssinian, were not peopled by Abyssinians, and did not fall under his rule. The record is unambiguous.

Italian arms, moreover, were decisive in enabling Menelik, after the death of Yohannes IV, to overpower resistance in Gojjam, Amhara, and Tigray, seize Harar, and subdue the southern Oromo regions. These later developments only underscore the point: Menelik’s expansion occurred after Assab was already firmly under Italian rule.

In short, the Menelik narrative survives only by ignoring dates, geography, and documentary evidence. History does not bend to political longing. Assab was never Ethiopian, never sold behind Menelik’s back, and never lost. It was acquired openly, recorded meticulously, and governed accordingly. There was no secrecy, no subterfuge, and no Abyssinian consent to be sought, because Abyssinia had neither jurisdiction nor sovereignty over Assab. Thus the myth of a “secret sale” is not merely wrong; it is historically illiterate.

Misrepresentations and Chronological Confusion

The kind of historical distortion coming from Ethiopia’s Prosperity Party officials and pseudo academicians reflects broader issues in how history is interpreted and disseminated. Three types of voices can typically be observed in discussions surrounding Ethiopia’s historical relationship with Eritrea:

1. Uncritical consumers of narratives: These individuals accept stories at face value without verification and present them as historical fact. Their influence often comes from repetition rather than accuracy.
2. Distorting elites: This group includes pseudo intellectuals, writers, and commentators who consciously or unconsciously manipulate historical facts. Selective emphasis, chronological errors, and reinterpretation of events are common tactics used to support particular political or ideological narratives.
3. Honest historians: Scholars in this category engage directly with primary sources and established records. They prioritize accuracy over narrative convenience, even when their findings challenge widely held beliefs or provoke controversy.

Implications for Historical Understanding

The myth of Assab is not a harmless slip in chronology; it is a case study in how history is bent to serve contemporary political desires. By distorting foundational events in Eritrea–Ethiopia relations, such narratives manufacture grievance, recycle fantasy as fact, and poison public understanding. They thrive not on evidence but on repetition, exploiting the gap between assertion and verification. Serious historical inquiry demands the opposite: fidelity to timelines, close reading of primary sources, and the intellectual courage to discard claims that collapse under scrutiny.

Placed back in its proper context, Assab’s history illuminates the wider geopolitical realities of the nineteenth-century Horn of Africa. Its purchase by Rubattino and incorporation into Italian colonial holdings reflected a familiar imperial pattern—the interaction of local authorities, private commercial actors, and European expansionist ambition. To understand Assab accurately is therefore not merely to correct a single falsehood; it is to reaffirm what history is meant to be: a disciplined pursuit of truth, grounded in evidence, resistant to convenience, and immune to the political fashions of the moment.

When evidence and chronology are taken seriously, myths give way to clarity. An honest reading of the record allows both scholars and the public to move beyond recycled misconceptions and to grasp the intertwined yet distinct histories of Eritrea and Ethiopia—one that acknowledges local agency while confronting the realities of colonial expansion. The lesson of Assab is simple and enduring: history is not a repertoire of convenient stories to be repeated, but a disciplined inquiry grounded in verification, context, and truth.