OK, let's get into it. Imagine, if you can, a
single human life that somehow manages to stretch
across the absolute widest spectrum of human
experience possible. Right. And I don't just
mean like a rags to riches story. I mean something,
something far more extreme. We're talking about
a spectrum that goes from being literally. and
I mean literally worshipped as God incarnate.
The Messiah. The Messiah returned to Earth. All
the way to ending up as a prisoner in your own
home. His remains found under a concrete slab.
Some sources even say near a latrine. It's a
story that feels almost too big for one biography.
On one side, you have this icon, the father of
modern Africa, a man who stood alone against
fascism when the rest of the world was sort of
looking at their shoes. And on the other side,
you have a feudal monarch accused of feeding
prime beef to his pet lions while his people...
starved in a famine he supposedly tried to hide.
It is the absolute definition of a complex legacy.
We are talking, of course, about Hail Selassie
I, the last emperor of Ethiopia. And the mission
for this deep dive is, I think, pretty specific.
We aren't just doing a timeline, a simple A to
B. We have to try and reconcile these. These
completely different versions of the man. They're
almost different people. They are. We've got
the historical records. We have the Rastafari
theology, the political history of the Horn of
Africa. I mean, I've been buried in these notes
all week. And honestly, the aha. Moments just
keep coming. It's a massive topic. I mean, to
really understand Hale Selassie is to understand
the history of the 20th century, the history
of colonialism, of anti -colonialism, and even
the history of new religious movements. It's
all there. It's all wrapped up in this one man
who was. By all accounts, barely over five feet
tall. But he casts such a giant shadow. Before
we get into the heavy politics, though, we have
to talk about the style. The sheer spectacle.
The hook details in this research stack are just
wild. I knew he was an emperor, but I didn't
realize he traveled with a literal pride of lions.
Oh, absolutely. This wasn't just a metaphor.
You know, when we say the Lion of Judah, he took
that quite literally. So this was part of his
whole... His brand. It was his brand and his
diplomacy. Before he was even emperor, when he
was regent and touring Europe in the 1920s, he
brought lions as diplomatic gifts. Wait, actual
live lions? Live lions. He gave one to the president
of France, one to the prime minister of France,
even one to King George V in Britain. Can you
just imagine the logistics of that? Or the conversation?
Your Excellency, we have a gift for you from
Last Safari. Where should we put his lion? It
certainly made an impression. The press went
crazy. It created this sensation they called
Oriental dignity. It established him immediately
as someone from a different world, an ancient
world of almost biblical power. I see. But as
we're going to see, beneath that spectacle of
lions and gold capes was a very, very shrewd
and in many ways a very modern political operator.
So, okay, let's go back to the source. Before
the lions, before the throne, he wasn't born
Hail Selassie. No, not at all. And names are
incredibly important in this whole story. He
was born on July 23, 1892, in the Hararg province
of Ethiopia. His given name was Tafari Makonnen.
And Tafari, that name has a specific meaning,
right? I saw that in the note. It does. It means
one who is respected or feared. Wow. That feels
incredibly prophetic for a kid who would grow
up to be both in just extreme measures. It really
does. And his title was Lish Tafari, which means
child. And it designated his noble blood. His
father, Reis Makonnen, was a legend in his own
right. He was a top general, a key player in
the Battle of Ottawa in 1896, which is, I mean,
that's one of the most important moments in modern
African history. That's where Ethiopia defeated
the Italians the first time, right? The first
time, yes. A stunning victory that reverberated
across the world. But the real key to understanding
Tafari's rise and his entire psychology is the
lineage. The Solomonic dynasty. I felt in such
a rabbit hole reading about this. This isn't
just claiming, you know, your grandfather was
a king. This is a claim that goes back thousands
of years. Precisely. This is the cultural and
religious glue that held the Ethiopian empire
together. The dynasty claims direct descent from
Menelik I. And Menelika I, according to the Kebra
Nagast, which is the Ethiopian national epic,
he was the son of King Solomon of ancient Israel
and Makeda, the queen of Sheba. Correct. So in
the eyes of the Ethiopian people and, you know,
eventually the Rastafari movement, this man has
the blood of the Bible of the Old Testament flowing
directly through his veins. That gives his role
a kind of divine right, that is. It's hard for
a modern secular mind to really grasp. It is.
wasn't just that he was the strongest warlord
or the smartest politician. It was that he was
chosen by God, part of an unbroken chain going
back to antiquity. But here's the thing that
surprised me. In the early 1900s, that bloodline
wasn't enough to guarantee him the throne. He
wasn't the heir apparent. No, he was not. He
had to hustle. He had to scheme. He had to be
smarter than everyone else in the room. Right.
He had to work for it. The news mentioned he
became a governor at age 13. I was, I don't know,
barely managing my paper route at 13. No question.
He was appointed de Jasmach, which is roughly
equivalent to a count or maybe a duke at 13.
But his path to the top was blocked by Ligiasu.
Ligiasu. Okay. He was the appointed heir, the
grandson of the great Emperor Menelik II. And
this is where we see the first real glimpse of
Tafari's political genius. Iyasu was the one
who flirted with Islam, is that right? That was
the accusation, yes. And in a staunchly orthodox
Christian empire, that was political poison.
Iyasu was seen as getting too cozy with Muslim
powers in the region. He was accused of apostasy.
Which gave Tafari an opening. A huge one. Tafari
Makonnen, along with the leadership of the Ethiopian
Orthodox Church and a faction of the nobility,
orchestrated a coup in 1916. Yasu was deposed,
and Menelik's daughter, Zuditu, became empress.
So Zuditu takes the throne, but Tafari doesn't,
not yet. Not yet. He played the long game, he
became Ras Tafari Makonnen, and more importantly,
Regent Plinipatentiary. Which is basically what
prime minister? Think of it as the CEO to the
empress's chairman of the board. He was running
the day -to -day of the country. But he had to
be careful. Empress Sudit, who was very conservative,
very traditionalist, Tafari was the young Kirk,
the modernizer. So he's pushing for change. Constantly.
He wanted schools, hospitals, airplanes, international
recognition. He was looking outwards to the future.
She was looking inwards to the past. It seems
like a very stressful roommate situation for
the entire country. It was a delicate, 14 -year
-long dance of power. But he was brilliant at
it. He managed to secure Ethiopia's admission
to the League of Nations in 1923. Which was a
massive deal. A massive diplomatic coup. It put
Ethiopia on the map as a sovereign state and
equal to the European nations, at least on paper.
And then in 1930, Empress Zuditu dies and Rastafari
Makonnen finally steps into the spotlight. The
coronation, November 2nd, 1930. This was the
event of the decade globally. The description
of this coronation is just... It's mind -blowing.
It really does sound like something out of a
fantasy novel. It was designed to be awe -inspiring.
This is the moment he took the regnal name Hail
Selassie I, which means Power of the Trinity.
Isn't that the full title? It's like poetry.
It is. By the conquering lion of the tribe of
Judah, His Imperial Majesty Hail Selassie I,
Kings of Ethiopia, Lord of Lords, Elect of God.
King of Kings. Nagusa Nagas. That's not a subtle
title. It implies that everyone else, every other
monarch in the world, is just a regular king.
But he's the boss. That's exactly the message.
And the guest list reflected that. The Driddish
sent the Duke of Gloucester. A royal prince.
You had envoys from Japan, Egypt, Italy, the
U .S. Time magazine put them on the cover. It
was a global spectacle. One report estimated
the cost at over $3 million. In 1930 dollars.
That's the start of the Great Depression. That
is an absolutely astronomical amount of money.
It was. And that tension, you know, between the
immense, almost fairytale wealth of the monarchy
and the deep poverty of the nation. That's a
theme that runs through this entire story right
to the very end. Of course. But at the time,
it was seen as necessary to project strength
and ancient legitimacy. He sent a gold encased
Bible to an American bishop just for saying a
prayer for him. It was all about establishing
this image on the world stage. But he wasn't
just throwing parties. He was trying to modernize
the country, at least on his own terms. The 1931
Constitution is a big part of this. Right. In
the notes, it's framed as this great step forward.
But when you actually look at the text. It's
a bit tricky, isn't it? It is a classic example
of what you might call authoritarian modernization.
Yeah. Yes, it was Ethiopia's first ever written
constitution. That's historic. It set up a bicameral
legislature, two houses of parliament. On the
surface, that looks like a move towards democracy.
But you have to ask, who appointed the members
of the upper house? The emperor. And who had
the final absolute veto? On all laws. The emperor.
Right. So it was democracy with training wheels,
but the emperor was holding the handlebars, steering
the bike, and had his foot on the brake. So the
goal wasn't really democracy. It was centralization.
Precisely. The stated goal in the text was a
transition to democratic rule, but only, and
I'm quoting here, until the people are in a position
to elect themselves. Which the emperor gets to
decide. Which the emperor gets to decide. It
was a brilliant move to consolidate power away
from the regional warlords and centralize it
in the palace in Addis Ababa. It was modern state
building, but it was definitely not freedom in
the Western sense. And then just as he's getting
started with this project, this, you know, this
grand vision for a modern Ethiopia, the sky falls.
Literally. The Italian invasion of 1935. The
second Italo -Ethiopian war. This is the turning
point, isn't it? This is where he goes from being
a national leader to a global figure. It changes
everything. Mussolini is in power in Italy. Fascism
is on the rise. And Italy has this 40 -year -old
grudge from the Battle of Ottawa. They wanted
revenge. They wanted revenge. They wanted a new
Roman Empire. And they wanted to link their colonies
in Eritrea and Somaliland by conquering the land
in between. The mismatch in technology here is
just heartbreaking to read about. You look at
the mobilization order from Selassie, everyone
able -bodied. But what were they fighting with?
Courage, mostly. And old rifles, some from the
19th century. Spears, swords. The Italians had
a modern air force. They had tanks. And most
horrifically, they had chemical weapons. Mustard
gas. Yes. This is one of the darkest chapters
in modern colonial history, and it's often overlooked.
The Italians completely violated the Geneva Protocol.
They dropped mustard gas bombs not just on soldiers,
but on civilians, on farms, on rivers. Even on
Red Cross hospitals. It's pure terror warfare.
It burns the skin. It blinds the eyes. It destroys
the lungs. It was designed to break the will
of a people. And Selassie, he actually went to
the front. He wasn't just directing from the
palace. No, he did. He led troops personally
at the decisive Battle of Mechu in 1936. But
you can't fight mustard gas with bravery alone.
The Ethiopian army was shattered. And this led
to the most agonizing decision of his entire
life. The exile debate. Yes. I found this part
fascinating because his advisors were completely
split. One side is saying, you are the emperor,
you are the lion of Judah, you stay and die with
your people. If you leave, you're a coward. The
honorable death. Right. Noblemen like Bledetekle,
Wold Horiat were adamant about it. They wanted
to wage a guerrilla war from the mountains with
the emperor as a symbol of resistance on home
soil. But the other side had a different view,
a more legalistic one. A more modern statecraft
view. They argued that if the emperor died or
was captured, the Ethiopian state would cease
to exist legally. The Italians could just claim
it was an internal matter. They argued he needed
to go abroad to embody the sovereign state and
plead Ethiopia's case to the world. So he chooses
exile. He chooses exile. He boards a British
train, then a cruiser. He goes first to Jerusalem.
Which is heavy with symbolism. The king of the
Solomonic dynasty returning to the land of Solomon.
Exactly. And then to Europe. And this leads to
the moment that I think makes him a legend. The
speech to the League of Nations in Geneva. June
1936. It is one of the greatest and most tragic
speeches of the 20th century. You have to picture
the scene. The hall is filled with European diplomats
who are basically just trying to ignore the problem,
hoping it will go away. Fascist Italian journalists
are in the gallery and they're heckling him.
Whistling, screaming abuse, trying to shut him
down. And this small dignified man stands at
the podium and he starts speaking in Amharic.
Which was a deliberate and powerful choice. He
spoke fluent French, which was the language of
diplomacy. He could have easily given the speech
in French. But he used his own language. He was
asserting his identity, his nation's sovereignty,
right there in the heart of Europe. He laid out
the cold, hard facts of the chemical attacks.
He shamed them. He called out the idea of collective
security for what it was, a total sham. And then
he drops that line, that prophecy. It gives me
chills every time I read it. It is us today.
It will be you tomorrow. He was telling the West,
in no uncertain terms, you think you can ignore
fascism because it's happening in Africa? It
is coming for you. And he was 100 % right. World
War II was just three years away. He became the
conscience of the world in that moment. Time
magazine named him Man of the Year. He became
this global icon of anti -fascist resistance.
Yeah. But... And this is the great tragedy of
international politics. The League did nothing.
Nothing meaningful. They imposed some weak partial
sanctions that didn't even include oil, which
is the one thing that could have stopped Mussolini's
war machine. They basically just wrung their
hands and let Mussolini have Ethiopia. So he
ends up in Bath, England. An emperor in exile
living in a house called Fairfield House. Yes.
And we should spend a moment on what that life
was actually like. He wasn't living in some gilded
palace. He was cash strapped. He was, by all
accounts, deeply depressed. He spent his days
writing his autobiography, walking in the dreary
English rain, lobbying anyone who would listen
to him. And the news from home was just devastating.
Horrific. The Italians were carrying out brutal
reprisals. They executed his son -in -law, his
own daughter, Princess Ramon Work. was captured
and died in an Italian prison camp. It's just
such a human image. The king of kings shivering
in a drafty English house, grieving his children
while the world just moves on. But he didn't
give up. He never gave up. And when World War
II finally broke out, the British suddenly realized,
hey, this Ethiopian emperor could be a very useful
ally against the Italians in East Africa. So
in 1941, he returns. He returns with a legendary
special forces unit called Gideon Force. Gideon
Force, great name. It was a mix of British officers
like the eccentric genius Ord Wingate and Ethiopian
patriots who had been fighting a guerrilla war
for years. They fought their way back into the
country, rallying the people. And on May 5th,
1941. Let me guess. Exactly five years to the
day after the Italians had entered. Addis Ababa
Hale Selassie re -entered his capital in triumph.
That moment must have been just electric. He
raised the line of Judah's standard over the
palace again. He was vindicated. He had been
right all along. So the war is over. The emperor
is back on the throne. And this kicks off his
second act. He pivots from being a war hero to
being the diplomat, the father of Africa. This
is the era of the 1950s and 60s. Decolonization
is sweeping the continent. Ghana. Kenya, Tanzania,
Nigeria, they're all fighting for and winning
their independence. And Ethiopia, because it
had this long history of resisting colonization,
becomes the ultimate symbol of black freedom
and sovereignty. And Selassie positions himself
right at the center of it all. He does it masterfully.
He makes Addis Ababa the political capital of
Africa. In 1963, he presides over the formation
of the OAU. the Organization of African Unity,
the precursor to the African Union we have today.
And getting all those new leaders in one room
was not easy. It was incredibly difficult. You
had the Monrovia group, who were more moderate
pro -Western, and you had the Casablanca group,
the radicals like Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana, who
wanted a United States of Africa immediately.
A huge ideological divide. A huge divide. And
Selassie was really the only one with the historical
weight and the gravitas to get them all in the
same room and hammer out a compromise. He was
the bridge. He was the elder statesman. He steered
a middle path. He supported decolonization movements.
But he was also a conservative monarch who was,
you know, meeting with President Kennedy. He
was the first foreign head of state to meet Mao
Zedong after the crisis of the Cultural Revolution.
He was mediating peace deals between Morocco
and Algeria. A true global figure. And the lions
probably helped maintain the mystique, I assume.
The lions always helped. He maintained that aura
of Oriental dignity. Perfectly. For two decades,
he really was the elder statesman of the world.
But while he's doing all this high level geopolitical
maneuvering, something completely different and
frankly, kind of mystical is happening on the
other side of the planet in Jamaica. The Rastafari
movement. This is where the story leaves the
realm of politics and history and enters straight
into theology. It's an incredible term. We have
to unpack this because for a lot of people, especially
in the West, this is the only context they have
for Hill Selassie. Bob Marley, dreadlocks, reggae
music. How does a devout Ethiopian Orthodox Christian
emperor become God to people in the Caribbean?
It starts with Marcus Garvey, the Jamaican pan
-Africanist activist. In the 1920s, he preached
this message of black pride and return to Africa.
And he supposedly uttered a prophecy. Look to
Africa where a black king shall be crowned for
he shall be the redeemer. And then in 1930, Tefari
Makonnen gets crowned in that spectacular ceremony.
And you just have to look at the titles again
from their perspective. King of Kings, Lord of
Lords, The Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah.
These are titles straight out of the Bible. Straight
out of the Book of Revelation. For poor, marginalized
communities in Jamaica who are reading the King
James Bible every day. This wasn't a coincidence.
They didn't see a political leader. They saw
the fulfillment of prophecy. They saw Jah, God
incarnate, return to Earth. It's such a powerful
narrative of reclamation. But for decades, this
was just a belief system far away. Then, in 1966,
the emperor decides to visit Jamaica. Grown Nation
Day, April 21st, 1966. I mean, if you want a
scene for a movie, this is it. It's one of the
most remarkable state visits in history. Set
the stage for us. What happened? He lands at
Palisados Airport in Kingston. There are an estimated
100 ,000 Rastafari waiting for him. They have
come from all over the island. They've been waiting
their whole lives for their messiah to arrive.
The drumming is incessant. And the smoke. Every
contemporary account says the air was literally
thick with a haze of ganja smoke. 100 ,000 people.
That is just intense. It was completely overwhelming.
When the plane finally taxied to a stop, the
crowd just broke through the barriers. They rushed
the tarmac. They surrounded the airplane, touching
it. kissing the tires, chanting, Ja, Rastafari.
And the emperor. He looked out the window at
this chaotic, ecstatic scene, and he refused
to come out. He was scared. He was probably terrified.
He was a man who prized order and dignity above
all else. He locked the door. The Jamaican government
officials didn't know what to do. The police
were completely useless against that crowd. So
what did they do? They finally had to find a
prominent Rasta elder, a man named Ross Mortimer
Plano, to go up the stairs, knock on the door.
and basically negotiate with God to tell him
it was safe to come down and meet his followers.
That is unbelievable. And when he finally stepped
out. Candemonium. Pure joy. Rita Marley, Bob
Marley's wife, was in the crowd. She later claimed
that as he waved, she saw the stigmata, the nail
wounds of Christ in the palm of his hand. That
was the moment she converted. Wow. Now here is
the million dollar question. Did he ever tell
them, guys, look, I appreciate the enthusiasm,
but I am not God? This is the source of endless
debate and interpretation. He was a devout Christian.
Technically, for him, claiming to be God would
be the ultimate blasphemy, but... But he didn't.
He didn't rebuke them. He didn't take the microphone
and say, stop this nonsense. Why not? What's
the thinking there? Some say it was just political
pragmatism. Why alienate these people who adored
him? Others say he was genuinely and deeply moved
by their love and faith. He gave gold medallions
to the Rasta elders, and he gave them a very
specific, very clever instruction. He said, liberation
before repatriation. Liberation before repatriation.
What does that mean? Well, the Rastas wanted
to go back to Africa immediately. Selassie had
even granted 500 hectares of land in Shashamane,
Ethiopia, for them to settle. But he told them.
essentially. Don't leave yet. You have work to
do here in Jamaica. You must liberate the people
of Jamaica first. That is such a savvy political
and spiritual answer. It validates them, but
it keeps them constructive where they are. Exactly.
He walked a very, very fine line. He accepted
their worship without ever explicitly confirming
it in his own words. So on the world stage, he
is this master diplomat. In Jamaica, he is literally
a god. But back home in Ethiopia. things are
starting to rot. This is the heartbreaking final
act of the tragedy. This is section five of our
outline. While the emperor was being toasted
in London and worshipped in Kingston, the foundations
of his own empire were crumbling from the inside.
It's the classic tragedy of a leader who becomes
so focused on foreign policy that they neglect
what's happening in their own backyard. And he
was a modernizer, but he was too slow. He couldn't,
or perhaps wouldn't, dismantle the feudal system
that his own power rested on. Land ownership
was still totally medieval. Peasants had to give
huge portions of their harvest to absentee landlords.
And the cracks started showing long before the
end. There was a coup attempt in 1960 while he
was away in Brazil. That was a huge shock. The
army put it down, but it was the first time anyone
had seriously challenged his absolute power.
Then you have the war in Eritrea. The annexation
of Eritrea in 1962 was a complete disaster, wasn't
it? A catastrophe. It dissolved Eritrea's parliament
and sparked a brutal 30 -year civil war that
drained the treasury and the morale of the army
for decades. But the thing that truly, finally
destroyed him was the famine. The Wallow Famine
of 1973? Yes. There had been famines before,
but this one was different. It was different
because of the cover -up. Tens of thousands of
people were starving to death. The most common
estimate is between 40 ,000 and 80 ,000 people.
And the imperial government actively tried to
hide it. They didn't want to embarrass the nation
or the emperor. They were celebrating the 10th
anniversary of the OAU. They wanted to project
an image of success and stability. And then came
the journalist Jonathan Dimbleby. A British journalist.
He heard rumors and he smuggled film crews into
the famine zones. He produced a documentary for
British television called The Unknown Famine.
And the editing of this film, it was absolutely
lethal. What did it show? It used a technique
called montage, a simple but devastating contrast.
It cut back and forth between images of skeletal
children dying in the dust, their mothers wailing,
and official government footage of the emperor
at a lavish palace banquet for his birthday,
eating cake. drinking champagne, tossing prime
cuts of meat from the table to his little dogs.
That is an image you can't ever recover from.
You can't. It aired in Britain. But more importantly,
copies were smuggled back into Ethiopia and shown
secretly to university students and junior army
officers. It shattered the myth. He wasn't the
benevolent father of the nation anymore. He was
a senile, out -of -touch tyrant who didn't care
if his people died. So the revolution begins
in 1974. But it wasn't a sudden explosion, was
it? The notes describe it as something much slower,
much stranger. They called it the Creeping Coup.
And it was fascinatingly macabre. The Derg, which
means committee, and Amharic, this group of anonymous
junior military officers, they didn't just storm
the palace. They stripped his power away layer
by layer over months. Like peeling an onion.
Exactly. First, they arrested his ministers,
one by one. Then they nationalized the imperial
family's bus company. Then they arrested his
grandson. They were testing the waters, seeing
if anyone, the senior generals, the public, would
stop them. And nobody did. Nobody did. The spell
was broken. That must have been terrifying for
him, just sitting in that massive palace, this
old man, watching the lights go out one by one.
He seemed almost paralyzed by it. He was 82 years
old. He'd been in power for almost 60 years.
I think he truly believed, perhaps, that his
divine right, his destiny, would somehow protect
him. It didn't. September 12, 1974. The end of
the line. A group of junior officers went to
the palace. They read a proclamation deposing
him for crimes against the people. And then,
this detail always, always gets me. They didn't
put him in a limousine or an army truck. They
put the King of Kings, the Lion of Judah, into
the back of a small, light blue Volkswagen Beetle.
A VW Beetle. It was a calculated, deliberate
humiliation. They drove him away as crowds who
had once worshipped him now shouted thief at
the little car. He was imprisoned in a small
apartment within the Grand Palace grounds. And
then came the blood. Black Saturday. In November
of 1974, the Derg rounded up 60 of the highest
officials of the old regime without any trial.
Two former prime ministers, the emperor's own
grandson, generals, aristocrats, all taken to
a prison yard and machine gunned. Buried in a
mass grave, it was the signal that the old world
was well and truly dead. But Selassie himself
lingered for a few more months as their prisoner.
Until August of 1975. The official story put
out by the Derg regime was that he died of respiratory
failure following complications from prostate
surgery. Which was a complete lie. A total lie.
The doctor who supposedly performed the surgery
hadn't seen him in months and later confirmed
he was in good health. It wasn't until 1994,
after the Derg regime was finally overthrown,
that the truth came out in court. What happened?
Two of his former servants testify. They were
there that night. They saw the derg officers
enter the emperor's room with a pillow and a
cord. He was strangled in his bed. Assassinated.
The 83 -year -old emperor was smothered to death
in his sleep. And then, and this is the final
awful indignity, they didn't even give him a
proper burial. They took his body and buried
him secretly beneath the floorboards of the palace
office, under slab of concrete. Some accounts
say it was specifically placed near a latrine
just to desecrate his memory. They tried to literally
pave over him, to erase him from history. They
tried, but as we said right in the beginning,
you can't erase a figure like this. In 1992,
after the revolution against the Derg, they dug
up the floor. They found the bones. And in the
year 2000, he finally got a funeral. He did.
It was a huge controversial event. The new government
didn't want to make it an official state funeral,
but thousands and thousands of people turned
up. Old veterans in their tattered uniforms,
weeping in the streets for their lost king. And
the Rastafari. What do they make of the bones
in the funeral? For many of them, they reject
it entirely. Their mantra is, Jah cannot die.
To them, the bones are a hoax or they're irrelevant.
Hail Selassie is a spiritual force, not a biological
entity. You can't bury God under a concrete slab.
So after all this, we're left with this incredible
mosaic, the modernizer who is too archaic to
save himself, the diplomat who couldn't save
his own throne, the God who was murdered in his
bed. It leaves us with a really provocative thought,
I think, about the nature of great men or of
historical figures in general. Hail Selassie,
the man was flawed, he was tragic, and in the
end he was utterly defeated. But hail Selassie,
the symbol, the Lion of Judah. The anti -fascist
icon, Ja Rastafari. That symbol is arguably stronger
and more influential today than it was even when
he was alive. The symbol, I live the man. By
a long shot. And it probably always will. Well,
that is a lot to process. From the League of
Nations to the ganja haze of Kingston to the
back of a Volkswagen Beetle. What a journey.
A journey unlike any other in the 20th century.
Thanks for listening to this deep dive. We'll
catch you on the next one.