By Tibebu Taye
The recent ‘renovation’ intervention on Fasil imperial enclosure has garnered tremendous traction from people of all walks of life. The actual nature and intent of the renovation as well as the driving factor forcing the intervention is still unclear. The government and its operatives are taking the activist roles by composing and sharing emotive narratives around the importance and success of the renovation initiatives. scepticisms on the other hand are expressing their concerns by interrogating among other things the integrity of the intervention, including the ethics and evidence on the choice of colour. Arguments and questions however didn’t yet exceed from a personal level, given the random nature of the announcement and thereby inauguration of the renovated imperial enclosure by the PM.
Beyond the sentiment and personal concerns expressed so far, the issue sets off a fundamental ethical and philosophical dilemma when looked at from the historical, archaeological or anthropological standpoints: primarily the tension between preserving historical authenticity and enhancing aesthetic appeal. While both may seem valid approaches to handling the past treasures, their underlying intentions and the amount of work required diverge significantly, with profound implications for our understanding of the past. An archaeological/anthropological critique of the intervention takes the central intention of this piece. Before jumping straight to the points, a brief delineation of two pivotal concepts sets the discussion.
Archaeological preservation, grounded in rigorous ethical principles, prioritizes the recovery and preservation of the original appearance and function of artifacts and features. This approach emphasizes the importance of understanding the historical processes that shaped the site, respecting its materiality, and ensuring its long-term survival for future generations. It involves meticulous research, careful documentation, and a commitment to minimizing the risk of altering or losing valuable historical information.
In contrast, improving the appearance of a historical site often focuses on presenting a more visually appealing and accessible image to the public. While this may involve necessary conservation measures like repainting, cleaning, and stabilization, it can also lead to interventions that prioritize aesthetic appeal over historical accuracy.
The two may seem the same, their distinction being in the intent – restoration versus aesthetic improvement – has profound implications for our understanding of the past. Archaeologists are generally against the latter, endorsing minimal restoration intervention for the purpose of preservation. Their argument is that by prioritizing appearance, we risk obscuring the historical layers that reveal the site’s evolution over time. We erase the traces of human interaction, the weathering that speaks to the passage of centuries, and the subtle shifts in color that reflect the site’s unique relationship with its environment.
Furthermore, this approach can lead to a distorted and ultimately inauthentic presentation of history. It can create a sanitized and idealized version of the past, devoid of the complexities and contradictions that make it truly meaningful. For instance, one of the most debated contradictions in relation to the Fasil Ghebbi is the presence of many legends, one is:
… about the city, and according to Castel Today, one of them is that the city was built in a place pointed out to the emperor Fasilides by a buffalo, which led him to the picturesque foothills during the hunt.
Another interesting contradiction is about the original color of the structures, which is also the bone of contention among the public following the recent intervention works. It is still difficult to precisely tell what the original painting of the building looked like. One important insight is found in Pankhurst’s book titled: ‘An introduction to the economic history of Ethiopia: from early times to 1800’, where he stated,
The splendid buildings of Gondar were of brown basalt with ornament of local wine-coloured tuff. Their fortress-like appearance and the use of mortar were new to Ethiopia, but the buildings contained traditional architectural features harking back to Aksum in pre-Christian and Christian times, to the rock-hewn churches of Lalibela and to other earlier and later structures. (Pankhurst, Richard (1961, p.86).
There is other evidence that claims that Beha Dingay was also used alongside basalt rock. The stones were curated from sites in Azezo around Kuskuam Mariam and Gemenedba selassie, respectively (Eskindir Desta, 2025, pp.69-70). The palace was erected using masonry construction techniques, says Desta, and discusses the use of lime mortar “to lay brick work, building stone and to point roof tiles. The main ‘ingredients’ were lime and sand but additives such as eggs, casein, keratin (from boiled hooves), tallow, blood, bees wax or bitumen are used to increase water resistance.”
The extent to which king Fasilides’s relationships with the external world influenced the architectural design and choice of color isn’t well documented and is another source of curiosity. By the principles of temporal and spatial comparison of contemporaneous structures of similar purpose from Turkey and India, we can infer the presence of some similarities. Those historical structures, constructed between the period of 17th and 18th C, generally show inclinations, possibly with some sorts of mutual influence? by featuring the color of earthly tone. The reason could be due to the limited availability and cost of pigments at the time. These are some of the ambiguities and interesting contractions left for our curiosity. Consider the fascinating similarities:
The three contemporaneous palaces from Ethiopia, India and Turkey, from left to right.
| 17th and 18th C palaces | Construction materials | Original colour |
| Fasil Ghebbi in Gondar/Ethiopia | Beha Dingay was also used alongside basalt rock | shades of Gray, Brown and possibly some reddish tones |
| The Raj Mahal in Orchha/India | Predominantly sandstone | The natural hues of the sandstone |
| The Ishak Pasha Palace in Turkey | Volcanic tuff/porous rock. | Pale yellow-beige, Light brown |
Based on the government’s past track of work and policy priorities, it’s clear that the primary intention was enhancing the site’s visual appeals. This is also evident from Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s own messages during his visit to the site: “After such a long time, I saw Gondar looking like Gondar itself. After a long time, I got the chance to see Gondor’s majesty, beauty, and attraction…” This statement strongly suggests that the primary goal was to improve the site’s appearance for aesthetic reasons, rather than to preserve its historical authenticity. Moreover, in his recent critique of the intervention shared on his personal Facebook account, Getahun Heramo expressed a similar scenario regarding the intent of the renovation work:
Taking the government intention as his as a point of disjuncture, Getahun offers a critique of the intervention work from his expertise standpoint, generally advocating preservation instead of any intervention. In the discussion that follows, I too reflect some reservations against interventions on historical heritages of a global significance. However, I take a mix of archaeological and philosophical perspectives which I believe are the elephant in the room.
The intervention on Fasil Ghibbi, the 17th-century imperial complex in Ethiopia, raises profound archaeological and philosophical concerns that extend beyond mere aesthetic considerations. While the intent may have been to enhance the site’s appearance, such acts of intervention may fundamentally alter the historical narrative and undermine the very essence of the structure.
The first and a direct reservation on the intervention work is regarding the most important principle in archaeology, i.e., the chronology of structures erected within the palace complex. This goes to the idea of painting historical buildings of different periods with a uniform color, a serious violation to historical heritages, and a disruption of chronology.
Within the palace complex, buildings constructed by different emperors at various times undoubtedly bear the imprint of their respective eras. Their construction at different times results in unique characteristics that, in addition to their architectural features, reflect the political, economic, social, and artistic expressions of their respective periods. To paint these historical artifacts, built at different times, by different governments, for different purposes, and by different engineers, with a uniform color, as if they were built in a single era, for a single purpose, and by a single engineer, as a representation of a single government, is akin to intellectual shortsightedness or archaeological negligence. It is like closing the door to the mysteries hidden within these artifacts, such as the connections between time and society, and preventing us from examining the keys to understanding our current social and political complexities by examining the past.
Fasil Ghibbi, as a testament to Emperor Fasilides’ vision, embodies a blend of architectural influences from Axumite, Portuguese, Indian, and Arabs – reflecting the dynamic cultural exchange of its time. Up until today, the palace represents the outstanding universal value, symbolising the ancient diplomatic and strategic relationships Ethiopia developed with the rest of the world, particularly with Muslim rulers from the coastal states. “This relationship is expressed not only through the architecture of the sites but also through the handicrafts, painting, literature and music that flourished in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.” (UNESCO).
More importantly, the complex symbolizes the philosophy of ‘permanence’ and demonstrates the idea of enduring stability and continuity in life. This philosophy of permanence is imbricated in the emperor’s legacy of his actions and decisions in creating a flourishing city for future generations, as well as the thoughts of building a resilient society that can withstand any perturbations without losing their heritages. True to his philosophical visions, subsequent emperors such as Yohannes I, Iyasu I, and Dawit III built their own structures in the same imperial compound, by expanding his legacy without disheartening his vision for permanence.
Between the thirteenth and seventeenth centuries, Ethiopian rulers moved their royal camps frequently. King Fasil (Fasilidas) settled in Gondar and established it as a permanent capital in 1636. Before its decline in the late eighteenth century, the royal court had developed from a camp into a fortified compound called Fasil Ghebbi, consisting of six major building complexes and other ancillary buildings, surrounded by a wall 900 metres long, with twelve entrances and three bridges. (UNESCO)
The notion of permanence is a cornerstone of Ethiopian philosophy. This notion of enduring stability that king Fasil aspired, as symbolized by the durable foundation of his palace, is not merely physical but also epistemological. His decision to implant his palace at the heart of Gondar was not only a departure from a mobile form of polity to modern forms of administration, but it could also be taken as a representative of the aspiration for a society built upon a foundation of reason, critical thinking, and ethical conduct, as championed by the renowned philosopher Zara Yacob his intellectual pursuit (1599-1692). Zara Yacob believed that a society’s permanence and foundation rested on the rationality and ethical conduct of its people. He also emphasised the need for individuals to question tradition and authority and to seek truth through reason and personal experience. Preserved heritages with authentic features are one way of questioning tradition, a means of connecting the past with the present, a possible means of channelling aspirations, visions, and resilience between generations.
Therefore, by altering the original appearance of Fasil Ghibli, we could disrupt this historical narrative thereby disturbing our societal foundations. We erase the traces of time, the surviving of the past that speaks to the passage of centuries, and the subtle shifts in colour that reflect the site’s interaction with its environment. There had once happened an inappropriate conservative intervention carried out between 1930 and 1936. The materials used for the restoration, cement and reinforced concrete, had caused damages to the original material and impacted its authenticity, even though UNESCO later attempted to reverse the work.
Today’s intervention work, ‘rehabilitation’ as we aptly put it, undermines the authenticity of the structure and the very foundation of historical understanding. It denies future generations the opportunity to engage with the site on its own terms, to question its past, and to draw their own interpretations from the layers of history embedded within its fabric.
Furthermore, this intervention echoes a troubling trend in Ethiopian society – a disregard for the enduring value of historical artifacts and a tendency to prioritize superficial appearances over genuine preservation. It disconnects the society from the past, and by extension from the infrastructure of truth, undermining the very foundations of our epistemic culture. Future intervention of such a scale on historical heritages, also illustrated by the relentless and widespread destruction of churches, schools, and other historical features, erode the capacity for critical thinking, for questioning tradition, and for building a society grounded in reason and understanding.
For future interventions
Iyasu I, Dawit III, Mentewab and other successors of Fasil had been true bridges, connecting the traces of the past to their generations. They opted erecting their own structures without damaging or changing the old one, they epitomised the science of architecture and history joining the relay between their predecessors and their generations and the future that was to come. By preserving the infrastructure of truth and social foundations, they gave their s’s and future generations a chance to question the past and their tradition and to realise and sediment their epistemic foundation. By leaving the authentic vision of the structure to its own time, they chose to expand the legacy by adding their own unique footprints stamping their names and times. What is also more concerning about the recent renovation of the imperial enclosure and the structures therein, we also did unjust to the legacy of these successors by deluging/erasing their visions and temporal stamps.
Considering the fascinating history of the cathedral church in Coventry, we can draw an alternative intervention.
The remnants of cathedral church in Coventry stands still with its authentic ruins
A B
The ancient Cathedral church in Coventry (image A), dedicated to St. Michael, was built between the late 14th and 15th centuries. The design of the church design represented the pinnacle of the Gothic Architecture manifesting the skill and artistry of medieval builders. Coventry city was a hub for military armaments and heavy industries, making it one of the primary targets of devastating air raids by the German Luftwaffe during the 2nd world war. The bombing caused widespread destruction and numerous casualties, inflicting severe damage on the historic Coventry Cathedral. The bombing flared the church with fire that damage significant part of its roof, walls and interior structures.
Through public and private donation, the church was rebuilt between 1955-1962 (image B). What was striking about restoration of the church was that instead of rebuilding a replica of the original cathedral, architect Sir Basil Spence came up with a creative design, leaving the ruins of the old church untouched. Today, both the old and new cathedral stand side by side, reflecting the architectural evolution of their periods, as well as a poignant reminder of the horror of the war. The new cathedral symbolises the peace and reconciliation between Germany and Great Britain, whereas the old ruins serve as a constant reminder of the destructive power of war. The story of these churches, as they stand next to each other, serve as a testament of human resilience and the ability to move forward, even in the face of immense tragedy.
Questions to architect Fasil Giorghis and the committee
- How can we justify painting historical buildings, constructed at different times by different emperors, with a uniform color, as if they were built in a single era, for a single purpose, and by a single constructor, as a representation of a single emperor?
- How does the repainting of Fasil Ghebbi impact the authenticity of the site and its ability to serve as a truthful representation of the past?
- What are the implications of this intervention for our understanding of Ethiopian history and culture?
- How does this intervention reflect broader societal trends in Ethiopia, such as the disregard for historical artifacts and the prioritization of superficial appearances?
- What are the long-term consequences of this intervention for future generations and their ability to engage with and learn from the past?
In conclusion, by priming aesthetic modifications, the renovation intervention of Fasil palace could be an act of historical disruption of the structure with profound historical and philosophical implications. It undermines the very essence of the site, its capacity to inspire critical thinking, and the enduring value of historical authenticity, the very foundation that connects us with the past.
Editor’s note : Views in the article do not necessarily reflect the views of borkena.com
__
Subscribe to support : https://borkena.com/2025/01/09/support-borkena-platform/
Join our Telegram Channel : t.me/borkena
Like borkena on Facebook
Add your business to Ethiopian Business Listing / Ethiopian Business Directory
Join the conversation. Follow us on X (Formerly Twitter) @zborkena to get the latest Ethiopian News updates regularly. Subscribe to YouTube channel To share information or for submission, send e-mail to info@borkena.com