Let me tell you a story.
You know Ethiopian history. At least, you know the history that is written in books. But I do not think you know it the way I see it.
Long ago, many philosophers dreamed of creating a just society. They wrote books, developed theories, and debated how human beings should govern themselves. Among them, my favorite is Plato. His idea was simple yet powerful: a philosopher king could govern more justly than democracy or any other form of government. Many have argued against him. I stand with him.
That is why I love the stories of kings.
Not because kings were perfect, but because they represented something larger than themselves. They carried institutions, traditions, responsibilities, and knowledge inherited from generations before them. One generation ruled, then passed its knowledge to the next. The chain continued.
But knowledge is not preserved only in books.
Knowledge lives in culture.
You can burn a library. You can destroy a palace. You can erase records and silence storytellers. Yet if the culture survives, the knowledge survives. As long as even a few people remain committed to preserving it, the memory of a civilization endures.
When I look at Ethiopian history, I do not see only kings and battles. I see communities. I see cultures that survived centuries. Some are ancient, some are new, but together they form Ethiopia.
I see the history of kings. I see the bond between rulers and their people. I see a relationship built not merely on power, but on legitimacy earned over generations. The people respected their kings and feared disappointing the system that had sustained them. This was different from Machiavelli’s fear. It was a commitment to an order they believed in.
Many Ethiopian kings ruled from different capitals. When they moved, the court moved. The nobles moved. The scholars moved. The soldiers moved. Merchants followed. Families followed.
With the elite came the people.
Modern scholars speak of migration through push factors and pull factors. They speak of economics, security, and opportunity. Those factors matter. But I see another force in Ethiopian history: the migration toward a just king.
People did not always move toward a developed city. Often, the city became developed because people followed a ruler they trusted.
That is how great centers emerged. Axum. Lalibela. Gondar. Debre Berhan. Addis Ababa.
A king established a court. The people followed. A settlement became a town. A town became a capital. A capital became a symbol.
The city was not the cause.
The people were not the cause.
The cause was belief.
Belief in a ruler, belief in an order, belief in a future worth building together.
A philosopher king.
And perhaps this lesson extends beyond kings.
To be a just king is not fundamentally different from being a just person. People naturally gather around those they trust. Not because they are forced to, but because they choose to.
People followed Moses into the desert.
People followed David into war.
Throughout history, many became one because they believed in a leader, a mission, or a vision.
That is how nations are built.
That is how civilizations endure.
So when I look at Ethiopian history, I do not merely see the rise and fall of kingdoms. I see generations searching for justice, carrying culture across centuries, and following those they believed could lead them toward something greater than themselves.
That is the Ethiopia I see.
Editor’s Note : Views in the article do not necessarily reflect the views of borkena.com
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After reading this article I understood thaf there are primitive scholars in this world. ፊውዳልን ተቀባይ ለማድረግ የዳከርክበት እርባና ቢስ ሀሳቦችህን ከቅድመ አያቶችህ ጋር ቅበራቸው። ሀሳብህን በማንበቤ የተሰማኝን ንዴት በምን እደምለካ ግራ ቢገባኝ ድንጋይ የድንጋይ ዘመን ሰው ብዬሀለሁ።
Sol. Whether we like it or not, a lot good and bad have happened in the whole world, but we can’t turn back the time and delete all. It’s a history, not a story you can change. Sol., what wrong did you find in this article though? I am glad to read your side of history, not the story what politicians tell you. Be nice always.
ድንጋይ እየደበደብክ አልቅስ የተውሶ ጭንቅላትህንም በዛው አጋጨው ከነቃህ ቂል።
A very unintelligent and rude comment you just made. I firmly believe you are the primitive one, without any knowledge of modern communication etiquette!
ድንጋይ ነህ መሰልከኝ
መሳደቡን ትተህ አትሞግትም
I like the article; it has nothing to do with idealizing feudalism. The “king” in the title is clearly metaphorical. While the author glosses over the flaws of absolute monarchy and leaves the argument historically loose, its core insight holds directionally true: Ethiopia was built on a shared belief in just governance, not sheer military force. From Axum to Addis Ababa, statehood endured because communities trusted the moral legitimacy of their leaders, and a deeply rooted culture preserved the nation through existential crises. Although the piece lacks specific historical breakdowns, it correctly identifies a recurring civilizational pattern: successful Ethiopian rulers—like Ezana, Zara Yaqob, Tewodros II, and Menelik II—frequently sought to blend statecraft with wisdom, justice, and a vision that reached far beyond mere territorial conquest.
Nice article. It’s good to read such a well thought comment by the individual above. The author in his article has tried to make a point that the old system and governance of the country at the time, kept the country one and a culture that is an envy of many other nations to this day. In regards to the first comment, there is no reason to be upset. We Ethiopians are tired of listening to those who play the victim role. It gets old.
Well Said. Ethiopianism was made through tolerance, belief and cultural as well as traditional heritage. What are we inheriting now? And how should we transfer our encouraging past to the next promising future?