In the annals of Ethiopia's history, few years stand as grimly as 1937--also known as Yekatit 12 in Ethiopia. Under Italian occupation, the nation groaned under the iron grip of Mussolini's Viceroy, Marshal Rodolfo Graziani, a man whose rule was synonymous with repression and brutality. His presence in Addis Ababa was a constant reminder of the city's subjugation.
February 19th, a day meant for celebration, instead became a day of reckoning. Graziani, an unyielding figure of fascist authority, was marking the birth of his child. But beneath the surface of official festivities, resentment simmered. The Italian occupation had not only brought military domination but also the systematic erosion of Ethiopian culture and the ruthless silencing of dissent.
Amidst this tense backdrop was Simeon Adefres, a taxi driver in the occupied capital. More than just a chauffeur, Simeon was a patriot, a silent operative within the resistance network. Unlike renowned warriors or high-ranking officials, he was an ordinary Ethiopian who had reached his breaking point. He was also a trusted confidant of Abraha Debotch and Moges Asgedom, the two young men at the heart of an audacious plan.
On that fateful day, Simeon played a pivotal role. His task was clear: transport Abraha and Moges to and from their mission. As the two men vanished into the celebratory crowd at the Genete Leul Palace, their pockets concealed not gifts, but grenades. Their intent was not festivity, but retribution.
The explosion shattered the forced merriment, plunging the gathering into chaos. As explosions were heard, panic spread. Graziani, though injured, survived.
- Advertisement -Abraha and Moges, fueled by steely resolve, escaped the pandemonium with the help of Simeon, who whisked them away in his waiting taxi. Their act of defiance had struck a symbolic blow against their oppressors.
The Italian response was swift and ruthless. Graziani's survival unleashed a wave of state-sanctioned retribution, endorsed by Mussolini's government in Rome. The fascist "Blackshirts" were given carte blanche to exact vengeance, igniting a brutal rampage across the capital. Civilians were indiscriminately slaughtered, homes were reduced to rubble, and the city became a theatre of terror.
Historical records paint a grim picture: men, women, and children were cut down in the streets, their lives extinguished in a fury of violence. Though Italian officers initially sought those directly responsible for the attack, the carnage quickly spiralled beyond any preteens of justice.
Eyewitness testimonies offer chilling accounts.
In his memoir, Temesgen Gebre recounted a narrow escape from death before being detained. "We found ourselves surrounded by eight machine guns," he wrote. "In that specific area, a large number of Ethiopians were mercilessly slain, their lifeless bodies callously discarded throughout the streets. As our hands were tightly bound, preparing us for the imminent gunfire, a commanding officer emerged to halt the bloodshed."
The massacre extended beyond the immediate aftermath of the bombing. It was a calculated campaign of terror--designed to extinguish Ethiopian resistance and instil fear. Italian forces looted, burned, and killed with impunity, turning once-vibrant streets into rivers of blood.
Ian Campbell, in his book "The Plot to Kill Graziani," details how Abraha and Moges, along with their associates Simeon, Sebhat Tureneh, and Bashah Wered Hailu, orchestrated the attack on the Italian Viceroy.
Historian Bahru Zewde, in "A History of Ethiopia from 1848 to 1966" (Ethiopian calendar), underscores the brutality of Italian fascism, which manifested with horrifying clarity on February 19, 1937.
According to Bahru, Ethiopia's educated class bore the brunt of the massacre. Members of the Black Lion organization, who had surrendered alongside Ras Imru, were systematically hunted down and executed. This purge of intellectuals devastated an entire generation, leaving an indelible mark on Ethiopia's political and academic landscape.
Though the attempt on Graziani's life failed to eliminate him, it proved to be a pivotal moment that exposed the unrelenting violence of the Italian occupation. The reprisals extended far beyond those suspected of involvement, reaching innocent civilians, including monks at the Debre Libanos Monastery, where one of the most egregious massacres of the occupation took place.
Yet, amid the horror, the attack also underscored the resilience of Ethiopian resistance. Among those who emerged as symbols of defiance was Simeon Adefres, a taxi driver whose role in the operation epitomized quiet heroism. His actions, alongside the ultimate sacrifice of Abraha and Moges, embodied the unyielding fight against oppression.
Today, in Addis Ababa's Sidist-Kilo district, a towering monument stands in solemn remembrance of Ethiopia's loss. The Yekatit 12 Square Memorial, marked by an imposing obelisk, honors the memory of more than 30,000 Ethiopians who perished at the hands of Italian forces in 1937.