„I Die, but I Thank You…!“ Leipzig Mission at Akeri 1896, Squeezed between Its African Addressees and German Colonial Military

Abstract

The following case study clarifies how these three different functions of mission are discursively entangled with one another. Mission as a bridge-builder (between people, cultures, and religions of different origin), as a traitor (cooperating with corrupt colonial and imperial powers), and as a victim (finding misery and death on the mission field). Each of these three terms (bridge-builder, traitor, victim) is, to an extent, applicable to the events that took place during the night of 19–20 October 1896 in Akeri on the slopes of Mount Meru (former German East Africa, today Tanzania). Using the concept of entanglement history, I will analyze the death of two young German missionaries of the Lutheran Leipzig Mission, “caught in the crossfire” between the African community to be outreached and the German colonial military. We will see how various symbolic systems collide in the year 1896 at Akeri. The systems are represented by: (1) German Lutheran missions activities; (2) A German colonial and military expedition; and (3) The resistance of African Maasai societies’ leadership. “Akeri 1896” (I will continue to refer to this event specifically as “Akeri 1896” throughout the article) had become in the following 100 years a complex entanglement of metaphoric meanings. The same event can be a placeholder for victory, for defeat, for disaster, for martyrdom, for Christ-centredness (of the missionaries in their own perception), as well as for evil-centredness (the Africans in their perception of the Western foreigners).

1. Introduction

In this paper, I will analyze the various discourses on the death of two young German missionaries of the Lutheran Leipzig Mission in the year 1886 at a place called Akeri in former Tanganyika (German East-Africa). Using the concept of entanglement history, I will investigate how they were “squeezed” between their outreach community and the German colonial military. We will see how various entangled symbolic systems collide there “at Akeri”. These systems are represented by German Lutheran missions activities by a German colonial and military expedition, and by the resistance of African Maasai societies’ leadership. “Akeri 1896” had become in the following 100 years a complex entanglement of metaphoric meaning. The same event can be a placeholder for victory, for defeat, for disaster, for martyrdom, for Christ-centredness (of the missionaries in their own perception), as well as for evil-centredness (the Africans in their perception of the Western foreigners).

The paper is structured in four parts: First, I provide a succinct historiography of the entanglements of German colonialism, Christian mission, and African indigenous leadership (1); Second, I take on the task of defining the factors and the actors at specific times in specific places in relation to the events in “Akeri 1896” (2); Next, I identify the correlated wounds and vulnerabilities between the affected parties and explore how they confront each other at these intersections (3); and conclude with final observations in the fourth part (4).

2. Historiography of Entanglements of German Colonialism, Christian Mission, and African Indigenous Leadership

„I die, but I thank you!“ (German original: “Ich sterbe, aber ich danke Euch!”), these have been reported to be the very last words of Ewald Ovir, as he addressed his murderers—African warriors of the Maasai tribe, who defended themselves, afraid of being attacked by foreign missionary invaders, who were assumed to be soldiers of the German protection force (Müller and Faßmann 1897, p. 12). In the dark morning hours of 20 October 1896, Ewald Ovir and Karl Segebrock, pioneer missionaries of the Leipzig mission, spent the first night in a provisory camp on a plot of land they had bought at Akeri on the slopes of Mt. Meru for the foundation of a new mission station. They had brought with them big loads of necessary equipment to establish the mission, including three rifles given by Captain Kurt Johannes of the German protecting army (“Schutztruppe”). Johannes was deliberately passing Akeri on a military exposure tour to Mbugwe in the west, travelling together with his young wife Amelie Johannes and a unit of soldiers. The small colonial army stayed on the same night 800 m away from the Akeri camp with the idea of looking how things are going and protecting the missionaries. What happened was the first contact with Arusha warriors who, “rattling their sabers“ (Spear 1997, pp. 70–71), surrounded the Schutztruppe camp, which reacted with heavy gunfire. The warriors later attacked the missionaries in their provisional camp and killed them with spears together with three Chagga assistants. The missionaries fired at least one shot. Due to the earlier raids of Captain Johannes and his troops against the Arusha in 1895, the German warriors had mistakenly thought them defeated (comp. Parsalaw 1999, 2000).

2.1. Mapping the Field of the Case Study

This historical event is only one example of hundreds, if not thousands, of occasions in which European imperialism, colonialism, and Christian mission clashed with one another worldwide. These experiences are constituted in reference to historical discursive spaces since they are about territorial and cultural expansion, as well as transfers of meaning over spatial distances, resulting in discursive entanglements. There exists a lack of research on the field of imperialism, colonialism, and Christian mission as one may expect (comp. Carl-J. Hellberg 1997; Johnston 2003; Hof 2016; Rasmussen et al. 2017). In this study, I focus on the spatial dimensions of the different societies that meet. I want to understand their temporal entanglements and ask: How do these societies intersect (or collide) in the history of modern Christian mission along geographical, material, communicative, social, and partly imaginary missionary boundaries in past and present? How are the latter negotiated through entanglements or through disentanglements? This study represents a practical application of the concept of “historical entanglements”, which was introduced quite recently (comp. Conrad and Randeria 2002; Habermas 2008; Budde et al. 2010; Zemon Davis 2010; Arndt et al. 2011; Struck et al. 2011; Schulze 2013; Habermas and Hölzl 2014; Rasmussen et al. 2017; Fischer and Thiel 2022). The question raised in this case study is: “How do historical dynamics, meaning interconnections, between colonial, missionary and indigenous interests take place, leading to the materialising of diverse and complex cultural interpretations/understandings/meanings of the same event?” Herewith I refer specifically to the study of dynamics of the history of religions as it has been developed by Thomas Tweed. Tweed theorizes, using the metaphor of the river, that religions are historically organic confluences that interact with numerous other cultural, political, and religious processes (Tweed 2006). In that perspective, every religion is always already subject to change and in motion. Tweed alternates between translocative and locative perspectives: “Even things that seem static, like landscapes and temples are always changing. It means in other words, putting landscapes in motion” (Tweed 2011, p. 24). Framed in this perspective, the dynamics of the history of missions, organisations, and their members, become actors in global networks that develop transnational strategies to construct and perpetuate diverse meanings from their various fields of action. These dynamics result in and are responsible for religious contacts. Contact situations are immutable places in mutable spaces where dynamics occur and manifest themselves in different ways because it depends on whose perspective you follow. On the other hand, in such a dialectical view, it is often contact situations that lead to a condensation of historical processes and contribute decisively to the formation of local and translocal structures. The empirical field of investigation here consists of communicative interaction webs. These webs or entanglements of relations constitute in their reciprocity both the religious mode of faith, including its theology, and the respective actors as a relationally assigned expression of opposition. These networks of relationships were largely established in the 19th century and maintained and further developed throughout the 20th century, framing and affecting the way people of different origins and cultures across regional, national, and continental borders connected. A quotation of Paul Allen Miller helps to amplify such a historiographical concept, „History from the perspective of the Real is not a narrative of events, but a series of entangled symbolic systems progressively collapsing before their own ineffable but changing beyond” (Miller 1999, p. 219).

In the following research on the death of the two German missionaries at the end of the 19th century, we will encounter at least three collapsing entangled symbolic systems: the German Lutheran mission, the German colonial regime and its military, and the resisting African indigenous social, political, and religious dominion. The symbolic systems of all three of these powers are involved in discursive processes that become tangle and disentangle with each other. We will see at the end of my analysis that with “change beyond”, I identify resistance as an inner force. The latter refers to the belief in a future in which the hope for a better life is fulfilled. Christians assign the substance of this force to theological terms such as “resurrection”, “coming of the kingdom of God”, “forgiveness of sins”, etc.

The research question is, therefore, “What discursive entanglements emerge from the historiography of “Akeri 1896”?” Further questions can be subordinated to this research question: How has mission history been constructed in relation to “Akeri 1896”? What different oral, political, and institutional expressions can be observed? How can the confusion that arose between actual and alleged perpetrators be disentangled and the silent victims identified? Who were the “victims” on the slopes of Mount Meru, and how should their “murders” be understood? We want to look at the different actors, factors, spaces, and networks of mission and productively include them here in an analysis that goes beyond the dichotomy of foreign colonization and mission versus indigenous reaction. In doing so, it is important to follow a perspective that asks about historical interconnections and entanglements. A history of entanglements emphasizes on the one hand commonalities and interactions in relationships so that a tunnel vision is overcome in explaining the history of a nation or—in this case—of a society from within itself. On the other hand, this perspective also makes clear that interactions and interdependencies not only lead to commonalities, but at the same time produce conflicts, demarcations, and ruptures when it comes to unintentional misunderstandings, obvious lies, the misinterpretation of information, corruption, and strategic alliances.

2.2. Navigation through a Discursive Entangled Historiography

If one considers the different actors, factors, spaces, and networks of the mission and productively include them in an analysis that—informed by postcolonial theoretical debates—goes beyond the dichotomy of foreign colonisation and mission versus indigenous reaction, we want to follow a perspective that asks questions which reach beyond interconnections and entanglements.

I follow herewith Philipp Sarasin, who demands that a “discourse theory raises the question of the materiality of sources. It draws attention to the fact that the ‘inherent logic’ of the material handed down cannot be dealt with in a source-critical way in order to restore a transparency obscured solely by distortions and falsifications, but that this ‘inherent logic’ is to be investigated and becomes a constitutive part of historiography. For us, the past is neither a “reality” nor are we allowed to reconstruct its supposed “meaning” as an ideal “beyond” the sources. The description and analysis of the past can therefore never detach itself from the description and analysis of the sources. It remains bound to the “entangled symbolic systems” which we identify in written documents, oral traditions, or visualizations of the “past” in photographs and film. What comes into view is not an arbitrary, supposedly postmodern game of texts that only refer to each other without reference to reality, but concrete, socially locatable forms and relations of media and communication, of information processing and meaning production” (Sarasin 2011, pp. 82–83, translated to English by M.F.). These insights are applicable now.

2.3. “Entangled Historiography” as an Instrument to Deconstruct the Hegemonial Discourse on the “Akeri 1896”

An intercultural historiography of “entanglements” firstly emphasises commonalities and exchange relationships. Secondly, this perspective also makes it clear that interactions and interdependencies did not only lead to commonalities, but at the same time produced conflicts, demarcations, and ruptures. I want to introduce parallel to the notion of “entanglements” several “dis-entanglements” resulting in secessions, splits, migration, and various forms of resistance as creative reactions to violence, oppression, colonialization, etc.

In researching mission history, I rely on navigating through “entangled history” by examining different times in discursive spaces and between various actors. As the name entangled history (Histoire Croisée) already suggests, it deals with entanglements, intersections, and crossings. With this theory, Michael Werner and Bénédicte Zimmermann created a model that shows the complexity of history and historical events in a globalized and intertwined world where everything is interdependent (Werner and Zimmermann 2006). A history of entanglements, according to Shalini Randeria and Frederick Cooper, on the one hand, emphasises exchange relationships, but even cases of accidental misunderstandings, obvious lies, misinterpreting information, executing corruption, and forming strategic alliances (Conrad and Randeria 2013, pp. 40–41).

With the following case study, I try to understand the conflicts that resulted in the tragic deaths of Ewald Ovir and Karl Segebrock in the morning of the 20 October 1896 and to investigate the tragic consequences in the wake of those killings. We ask if it is possible, even exactly 125 years after the event, by providing a postcolonial re-reading of accessible archived documents, narratives, and related discourses, as per the methodology of “entangled historiography”. Any researcher who uses the method of “entangled history” must consider historical “times” and “spaces” in their specific interconnectedness as dimensions in which the “actors” act (Ratschiller and Wetjen 2018, pp. 9–25). Therefore, to understand different actors, factors, spaces, and networks of the mission in productive analysis, informed by postcolonial theoretical debates, one must go beyond the dichotomy of foreign colonisation and mission vs. indigenous reactions. Instead, it is better to follow a perspective that examines the interconnections entanglements of the situation.

2.4. Research Objectives (“To-Dos”), Put in Order according to the Papers Structure

Firstly, one has to deconstruct and even reconstruct the contextual situation of Segebrock and Ovir towards the various actors on the night of 19–20 October 1896. Secondly, one has to find out the main motives of the involved actors, both German and African, in the process that culminated in the deaths of Segebrock and Ovir. Thirdly, one has to make visible the entanglements of power relationships between the Leipzig mission and the African leadership caught between resistance to missionary work and cooperation. Finally, one has to define the guidelines for a postcolonial understanding of the entangled history of mission at the interface of the interrelated churches and Christians from the global “North” and “South”.

2.5. The “Colonial Situation” as the Context of Mission Activities

The context of these missionary activities begins with the colonial political and economic system, introduced by the German Wilhelminian empire of the late 19th century. The historian Georges Balandier identifies there a certain so-called “colonial situation” that is created. The colonial situation, according to the mission historian Erhard Kamphausen “(…) describes a system in which the white colonising minority, with absolute power based on brutal force, mercilessly enforces its political and economic goals against the black majority. The world of the colonised and the colonial master are antagonisms that follow the principle of mutual exclusion. The boundaries between black and white are constituted by the power of the military, the police, and the guns of the settlers. The colonial situation is almost Manichean in character; there can be no dialogue or reconciliation between masters and servants. The colonial situation is reinforced by ideological and religious patterns. The colonised are denied their humanity; they are degraded to savage and manipulable ‘things’. His life is determined by the iron laws of racism. The colonial situation is the framework in which white missionaries and black Christians confront each other” (Kamphausen 2015, p. 259; footnote 46 referring to Balandier 1970, pp. 105–24).

In my analysis, I start here and attempt to give back dignity in my historical narration. It somewhat aligns with subaltern studies and it concerns subalterns and their social protest (Cronin 2012). The deconstruction of imperial rule and the consequently associated reconstruction of a history from below is parallel to a certain tradition of critical political studies, introduced by Hannah Arendt. In part two of The Origins of Totalitarianism, published in 1951, Arendt investigates scientific racism and its role in colonialist imperialism, itself characterized by unlimited territorial and economic expansion (Arendt 1951). That unlimited expansion necessarily opposed itself and was hostile to the territorially delimited nation-state. Arendt traces the roots of modern imperialism to the accumulation of excess capital in European nation-states during the 19th century. This capital required overseas investments outside Europe to be productive, and political control had to be expanded overseas to protect the investments. She then examines “continental imperialism” (pan-Germanism and pan-Slavism) and the emergence of the “movements” that tried to replace political parties. These movements are hostile to the state, antiparliamentary, and gradually institutionalize anti-Semitism and other kinds of racism.

3. Factors and Actors in Certain Times at Certain Places Related to the Events at “Akeri 1896”

The “dry facts” that resulted in an influential missionary and colonial “narrative” have already been described in the first paragraph of Section One (refer above). There exist several reports, documents, official statements, and later publications on this event. Each one is more or less tendentious and guided by certain interests up to false propaganda and political indoctrination (see Altena 2003, pp. 282–84; Althaus 1992, p. 101; Groop 2006, pp. 39–49; Lema 1999; Müller 1936; Schwartz et al. 1897; Schwartz 1912; Spear 1997). A thorough discourse analysis of these documents would be warranted, though this extends beyond the scope of my work here. For the purposes of this study, we can identify three types of publications. Mission magazines and reports of missionaries, magazines of the late 1960s onwards show the awakening self-awareness of Tanzanian Christianity itself (see Kiesel 1969; Kiesel 1971; Kiesel Historia ya Kanisa la Kiinjili la Kilutheri Tanzania Kaskazini toka 1893–1940; Kiesel Kitabu cha Matthayo Kaaya). These all are written in Kiswahili, the African lingua franca of Tanzania and all go back to the authorship of the former missionary and long-term co-worker of the ELCT-Northern Diocese, Rev. Klaus-Peter Kiesel from the Neuendettelsau mission. He served in the areas of Meru and Kilimanjaro as a congregational pastor from late 1960s until the early 2000s. In addition, he was also the church historian at the archives of the Northern Diocese headquarters at Moshi. Two of the sources are publications in two church magazines (1969/1971) describing the event more generally. The oral testimony of one of the warriors named Paulo is recorded by Kiesel (Kiesel 1969, p. 3), and lastly, the modern research through a postcolonial and historically critical perspective. The third of these documents is (originally written in Kiswahili) the History of the Evangelical-Lutheran Church in Tanzania 1893–1940 by Kiesel. In his History of the Evangelical-Lutheran Church (1893–1940), he elaborates on “Akeri 1896” in detail (Kiesel, Historia ya kanisa, pp. 28–33). He seems to rely on previous publications in the Evangelisch-Lutherisches Missionsblatt (=ELMB) 1897 and on Althaus (Althaus 1992). The last one is the documentation of a fascinating small piece of “oral history”: Matthayo Kaaya, who was born and lived close to Akeri around 1880, was interviewed by Kiesel in late 1960s. The Meru-born Kaaya is an indirect witness of the occurrences of the 20 October 1896, who reports the personal names of the Chagga warriors who murdered the Arusha men and women, as well as the captured women, which shows special knowledge.

3.1. The Eight Historical Factors Being Intersected or Entangled with One Another at “Akeri 1896”

We observe and deconstruct eight historical factors being intersected or entangled with one another (there are more factors, but we must limit ourselves here). Herewith, I introduce these factors. Forgive me, due to the limited space of the presentation, this can only be done in an introductory manner here (Section 3.1.1, Section 3.1.2, Section 3.1.3, Section 3.1.4, Section 3.1.5, Section 3.1.6, Section 3.1.7 and Section 3.1.8).

3.1.1. Traditional African Societies’ Leadership (Chagga, Meru, Arusha, Maasai) in Relations

The Chagga and the Meru peoples share many similarities economically, linguistically, culturally, and religiously. Both developed in the 100 years before “Akeri 1896”, living on the rich banana grove and coffee plantation slopes of Mount Kilimanjaro (Chagga) and Mount Meru (Meru) in Northern Tanzania. However, the Meru society and economy had, at the end of the 19th century, just started to adjust to the German colonial government influences. Next, the Maasai and Arusha are similar from a cultural perspective. The Maasai differ in many aspects from the majority of the ethnic Bantu groups in East Africa. Having settled at the southern slopes of Mt. Meru, these early Arusha colonizers started farming. Protected by the neighbouring Kisongo Maasai, the Arusha Maasai section could inhabit the place peacefully despite the Meru tribe already having settled at the southern parts of Meru. In time, the Arusha grew in number, economic strength, and confidence. They not only challenged their Bantu neighbours, the Meru, but also their once superior Maasai patrons in the steppe.

Indigenous military context: Resisting Maasai warriors, the “Ilmurran”, Maasai men of a certain age, are understood as “warriors”, tasked with protecting their people, their cattle, and the grazing lands they make use of. The Maasai society’s organization is strongly patriarchal, with elder men, sometimes joined by retired elders, deciding on the most important matters for each Maasai group. They wear the symbolic colour red to represent power. The Maa word for diviner (Maa: loibon, also respected as a ritual expert and as a prophet) is oloiboni, pl. iloibonok. For this paper, I make use of the commonly used and simplified word loibon, pl. loibons. If a loibon has gained enough reputation in his society, he might be consulted by certain groups of Maasai. According to Henry A. Fosbrooke, he “provides charms and lays down a ceremonial to be utilized to the advantage of the whole group” (Fosbrooke 1948, pp. 13–14).

“These (…) diviners are consulted to procure success in war, good rainfalls and help against diseases. Another group consists of the chief diviners. These loibons enjoy great respect among the people they serve. They are the spiritual leaders of the tribe and the sections, and in addition to duties they have in common with the lesser diviners, they sanction war raids as well as bless and authorize ceremonies affecting the whole Maasai tribe” (Groop 2006, p. 28).

3.1.2. Coastal Colonial Regime of the Sultanate of Zanzibar

The Sultans of Zanzibar were the rulers of the “Sultanate of Zanzibar”. The latter was instituted on 19 October 1856 after the death of Said bin Sultan, ruler of “Oman and Zanzibar” since 1804. The Sultans of Zanzibar controlled the main parts of the east African coast, known as Zanj, until 1886. They ruled over the trading routes extending further into the continent, passing by on one of their routes Mount Kilimanjaro and Mount Meru and as far as Kindu on the Congo River. With the signing of the Heligoland–Zanzibar Treaty in 1890 during Ali bin Said’s reign, Zanzibar was officially registered as a British protectorate. It was Sayyid Hamoud bin Mohammed Al-Said (1853–1902) who ruled from August 1896 to July 1902. He was the seventh Sultan of Zanzibar, ruling at the time of “Akeri 1896”, but was not directly involved in it as he was not controlled by the Germans but by the British. Since Omani was the Sultan of the protectorate of Zanzibar, slavery on the island was outlawed. Hamoud became Sultan with the support of the British consul, Sir Basil Cave, upon the death of Sayyid Hamad bin Thuwaini. Hamoud demanded that slavery be abolished in Zanzibar and that all the slaves be manumitted.

3.1.3. German Imperial Protection Force (“Kaiserliche Schutztruppe”)

To understand the foreign military context, we have to describe the importance of the conquering German colonial army, the “Schutztruppe”. Schutztruppe was the official name for the military units in the German colonies in Africa from 1891 until their disbandment in October 1919. They were subordinate to the Reichsmarineamt until 1896, to the Colonial Department of the Foreign Office from 1896, and to the Reichskolonialamt since its establishment in 1907. The term Schutztruppe goes back to the decision of the empire’s chancellor Otto von Bismarck to use the term protectorate instead of colony for the acquired or conquered overseas territories, as he was concerned with protecting German trade with and in the colonies. These German colonial companies could not prevail against the resistance of the local population, so that the imperial government gradually usurped actual rule, and thus, the “protectorates” became colonies. In the German colonies in East Africa, the term “Schutztruppe” was used. The troops of the Schutztruppe were composed of the German officers, medical and veterinary officers, non-commissioned officers, and civil servants who left the army and transferred to the service of the Schutztruppe with the option to return. The crew ranks in East Africa were initially filled by mercenaries from Sudan and Mozambique, and later on by enlisted locals called “Askari”.

The Schutztruppe in the German East Africa was occasionally supplemented by native auxiliaries, the (so-called in Kiswahili) “Rugaruga”, feared militias in the wake of the Schutztruppe. In colonial times, this also referred to irregular auxiliaries provided by village communities or chiefs to the colonial forces on a case-by-case basis. Unlike the Askaris, Rugaruga were not part of regular colonial armies such as the German Schutztruppe. To identify themselves, they wore uniform parts or simply coloured ribbons and patches.

3.1.4. German Colonizers, Traders, and Settlers in East Africa

To better understand the political context and power relations of the time, one must look at the German colonization of Africa. At the beginning of the last quarter of the 19th century, the unified German Empire had emerged as a major world power and as the third European empire ruling over “colonies”. In 1885, right after the Berlin Conference, gunboats were dispatched to East Africa to contest the Sultan of Zanzibar’s claims of sovereignty over the mainland in what is today Tanzania. The colony was officially established in an area already inhabited by a few German missionaries and merchants. Tanganyika was the largest of the six countries that constituted Germany’s African presence in the age of New Imperialism. The focus of the colonization was the economic exploitation of the soil and the people. Focusing on our case study, I state that Mount Meru in north eastern Tanzania has long been such a contested area, and struggles over land on the fertile, well-watered southern slopes of the mountain have featured strongly in its recent history. During the early 19th century, land was plentiful, and Arusha and Meru settlers expanded rapidly up its slopes. By the end of the century, Meru and Arusha had reached the upper limits of cultivation and came increasingly into conflict with one another fighting over vacant areas between them (Spear 1996, pp. 213–40).

3.1.5. German Imperial Government at the Center in Berlin

The importance of the imperial government of the extremely hierarchical German empire of 1871 became visible at the “Berlin-Congo-Conference” (1884/85). This event, also called “Congress of Berlin”, took place after an invitation from Otto von Bismarck (1815–1898), the imperial chancellor of the German empire. This is how the mission-friendly words spoken by Bismarck as the imperial chancellor (1871–1890) on 11 December 1894 in the Reichstag went

“The government will least of all renounce the support of the Christian missionary societies, without whose sacrificial and beneficial activity the entire colonial work would be called into question. The Government, for its part, will encourage the mission in every way and give it full freedom in the exercise of its profession in all protectorates”.

(Paul 1898, pp. 20–21 [translation by M.F.])

3.1.6. German Imperial Government Represented at the “Margins” in East Africa

Here, I list some remarkable political decisions made by the German empire. Their consequences directly relate to entanglements and disentanglements, with foundations and conflicts within the framework of indigenous populations, between the Leipzig Mission Society and the German colonial power from 1892 to 1904:

1884: Start of the territorial acquisitions of the “Gesellschaft für Deutsche Kolonisation” by Carl Peters in East Africa.

1884/85: Berlin–Congo Conference (“Scramble for Africa”) coinciding with Germany’s emergence as an imperial power.

1888: Treaty with the Sultan of Zanzibar; leasing of the coast to the “Deutsch-Ostafrikanische Gesellschaft” (D.-O.-A. G. [German East African Society]); the coast remains property of the Sultan.

1890: Heligoland–Zanzibar treaty between the German and British empires.

1890: Government treaty with D.O.A.G. Takeover of the protectorate by the German Empire.

1890: The first Western settlers arrive at Mount Meru, cultivating and trading.

1891: “Schutztruppe” (imperial protection force) for German East Africa established.

1892: Leipzig mission’s interest in work in East Africa matured, taking over the previous work of the Hersbruck mission.

1895: Decree of colonial rulers published. All land belongs to the crown; natives of Kilimanjaro and Meru are confined to upper slopes.

1896: Missionaries Ovir and Segebrock, although close to Captain Johannes, killed during an attack of Arusha warriors.

1896: Only some days after the “event” of the 20 October. The punitive expedition or massacre of Captain Kurt Johannes together with Lieutenant Moritz Merker with 6000 Chagga auxiliaries against the Arusha and Meru.

1897: Introduction of a house and cottage tax for German East Africa.

1897/98: Arusha defeated after several punitive expeditions by Captain Johannes, hundreds of deaths, destructions, rapes, and raids.

1900: Foundation of the military post Boma of Arusha, built with the forced labor of Arusha warriors (followed by the development of the village Arusha).

1902: Leipzig’s foundation of the mission station Nkoaranga as the first one at Meru.

1904: Arrival of the Leipzig missionaries Fokken and Luckin; foundation of mission-station Ilboru at Arusha.

3.1.7. Entangled Missions: Leipzig Mission, Church Missionary Society (CMS), and Holy Ghost Fathers

Berlin III Missionary Society, also known as the Evangelical Missionary Society for East Africa (EMS), was the first to send Lutheran missionaries from Germany. Their first mission station was opened at Dar-es-Salaam in 1887. The third mission society (after Berlin II) was the Leipzig Mission Society. This society entered the country in 1893 and opened its first station at Kidia, Old Moshi in Kilimanjaro region. The Leipzig Mission was not the first mission agency in that field, but the second; the British Church Missionary Society (CMS) had established a station at Moshi on the slopes of Mount Kilimanjaro since 1885. In 1895, Karl Segebrock and Ewald Ovir were sent to German East Africa

“(…) to expand the Lutheran work westwards. The work among the Chagga of Kilimanjaro was well underway and the enlargement of the Lutheran work was timely. Moreover, with increased competition from the Catholic Holy Ghost Fathers, swift expansion was considered necessary. In October 1896, after receiving orders from the board in Leipzig, Ovir and Segebrock travelled to Mount Meru to make preparations for the foundation of a station amid the Meru (Waro) tribe inhabiting the southeastern slopes of the mountain. In an optimistic letter to Missionary Emil Müller, Ovir reported about a friendly reception by Mangi Matunda, the Meru Chief. Ovir also noted that the Holy Ghost Fathers had not preceded them”.

(Groop 2006, pp. 40–41)

They started a completely new station among the Meru people living there and settling on the southeastern surrounding of the second highest mountain of what today is Tanzania. What are the profiles of Segebrock and Ovir?

Karl Segebrock (1872–1896) was born in 1872 in Mitau in Kurland (Imperial Russia). Inspired by a missionary’s sermon during his school days, he decided to become a missionary himself. In 1889, he entered the Leipzig Mission Seminary and passed the final examination on the Easter of 1895. In 1895, he was assigned to the Chagga Mission in East Africa together with Missionary Ewald Ovir. He landed in Mombasa in 1895 and reached Mamba on 19 September 1895, where he worked with missionary Gerhard Althaus. In 1896, Segebrock joined missionary Fassmann in Moshi (Old Moshi/today Kidia) to establish this station. On 13 October 1896, he left for Meru with Missionary Ovir, where they planned to establish the station in Akeri/Meru.

Ewald Ovir (1873–1896) was born 1873 in Jaggowall in Estonia (then Imperial Russia). He attended the government grammar school in Reval from 1883 to 1890 and then became a tutor. He came to know about the overseas mission through a doctor, and in 1891, he entered the Leipzig Mission Seminary. He was ordained in Leipzig in June 1895 and on 5 June 1895, Ovir was assigned together with missionary Karl Segebrock to the Dschagga Mission in German East Africa. He landed in Mombasa and arrived in Machame on 21 September 1895, where he worked together with missionary Emil Müller. He left for Meru on 13 October 1896 with missionary Segebrock, where they planned to establish a station in Akeri/Meru. In an enthusiastic message, Ovir describes to the already established Missionary Emil Müller the warm welcome he received from Mangi Matunda, Chief of the Meru. The competing Holy Ghost Fathers were still behind them, Ovir explains (Groop 2006, p. 41). According to Mission Inspector Martin Weishaupt, the competition with the Catholics is a major motivation for the Leipzig Mission to found stations around Mount Meru (Weishaupt 1912, p. 534).

The main historical source here is really a compilation of different sources by the missionaries Emil Müller and Robert Faßmann, only half a year after the event in March 1897; The title of the English translation is „Blood Baptism of our Mission at Meru. According to letters by Müller and Faßmann”, according to the German original („Die Bluttaufe unserer Mission am Meru. Nach Briefen von Müller und Faßmann“). It was published in the mission society’s magazine “Evangelisch-Lutherisches Missionsblatt (=ELMB)” from 1897 (Evangelisch-Lutherisches Missionsblatt 1897). The book contains two articles, which express the entanglements of the colonial, missionary, religious, and political interests, which are seen as separated on the one hand and directly related to one another: Title of the first one is “Blood-baptism of our mission at Meru…”, and the title of the second contribution is: “Punitive expedition to the Meru…”. I ask myself: “Isn’t it fascinating that people (Indigenous for that matter) are not baptized here, but the mission itself? What does this mean? Is it a legitimizing of the mission through deaths interpreted as “sacrifice”? Does it open up the possibility to question the mission’s legitimacy?” Page 13 in this document shows bust images of the two missionaries, underpinned with the words: “… murdered on 20 October 1896 on Mt. Meru”. Again, below there are two biblical quotations, “These have come out of great tribulation,” (Revelation 7:14), and “And they have offered up their souls for the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Acts 15:26). From pages 14 to 15 of this report, I count six of the eight relevant factors and actors that I spotted. On page 56–57, the entanglement of mission and colonial power (Schutztruppe) is evident in the article with the title: “Die Strafexpedition nach dem Meru”, where the “punitive expedition to the Meru” is described as a fully justified reaction.

3.1.8. German Mission Societies Headquarters at Leipzig

Carl Paul (1857–1927) was a German Evangelical Lutheran theologian, pastor, missiologist, and author. He was the influential director of the Leipzig Mission (1911–1923) and was considered a respected expert on the colonial mission in Germany at the beginning of the 20th century. Paul remains relevant to our case study here even though he was in charge 15–20 years after “Akeri 1896”. Through his work, we have a better understanding of German imperialism from the way Paul strategically entangles mission and imperialism in a shameless way; Paul agrees that in official language, the term “protectorates” is much more appropriate than the term “colonies” in describing overseas possessions. He demands that indigenous rights be protected. The first African territories, he claims, did not arise from violent conquests, but from treaties of protection with native rulers: “We, the powerful nation whose arm now reaches into the interior of Africa and to the islands of our opposite feet [this refers to the former colony of German New Guinea, M.F.], and whose voice counts for something in the council of nations, owe such protection to the much-troubled peoples of Africa and the South Seas…”. Paul refers to the situation around 1900 in the region of Arusha and Kilimanjaro: “The predatory Maasai, who until recently made the border areas of German and English East Africa unsafe, also enjoy the worst reputation as cattle and human robbers” (Paul 1898, p. 9 [transl. to English, M.F.]).

3.2. “Chart of Entanglements” between Various Factors and Actors at Certain Places

Various factors/actors, discursively entangled with each other at certain places and at specific times structure and invigorate a space of exercised violence against others or of being violated. At the discursive intersections of two intersecting points of the variables X/Y we navigate a qualitative analysis. These factors and their actors are interrelated more or less strongly with each other.

Above: chart of entanglements (M. Fischer)

3.3. Factors and Actors at Certain Places and Times, Structuring and Invigorating a Discursive Space

Herewith I introduce the epistemological value and practical application of the diagram with the eight factors; a navigation through discourses facing the wounds, visible made by the variations of the intersecting relationships (X/Y-axis). The “wounds” are inflicted either directly or indirectly and are indicated by underlining of passages that give symbolic expression to the victims.

• Traditional African societies’ leadership, intersected by Point 1; regional internal conflicts between Chagga and Arusha misused for revenge of the protection force (1896ff)
• Coastal colonial regime of the Sultanate of Zanzibar; intersected Point 5; Sultan Hamoud fully dependent on British empire after the Helgoland–Zanzibar treaty (1890)
• German military forces (“Imperial Schutztruppe”); intersected by 1; missing experience of living in foreign environments, lack of knowledge, permanent fear of attacks (1896)
• German colonizers, traders, and settlers in East Africa; intersected by 6; confiscation of traditional land, access reserved to colonists, declared by German government (1895)
• German imperial government at the centre in Berlin; intersected by Point 8; government giving the mission freedom to exercise its profession in protectorates reveals the dependency of mission on the state and the supposed imperial character of such a hegemonic “mission” (1884)
• Imperial government represented in East Africa; intersected by Point 1; forced labour of Arusha warriors, constructing the Boma of Arusha as a collective punishment (1900)
• German mission societies stations around Kilimanjaro and Meru (Leipzig, Anglican CMS, Catholic HGF); Intersected by Point 8; dependency; decisions such as the foundation of a new station must be permitted by the LM headquarter (1896)
• German mission societies headquarters at Leipzig/German Empire; Intersecting Point 1 and Point 7; wrong, tendentious information about the traditional religions, demonizing it, and reported by Leipzig missionaries as “objective truth” to Leipzig society’s headquarters and the seminary may result in misunderstandings of the supposed superior missiologists.

4. Correlated Wounds and Vulnerabilities, Remembered in a “Christian Calendar of Names”

At the end of these observations, let us remember the proposed research objectives; I want to deconstruct, and even reconstruct, the contextual situation of Segebrock and Ovir with the various actors on the night of 19–20 October 1896. Therefore, we have to find out the main motives of the involved German and African political actors in the process that resulted in the death of Segebrock and Ovir, referring to their self-understanding. This brings us to the task of making visible the entanglements of power relationships between the Leipzig mission and an African leadership stretched between resistance to missionary work and cooperation with it. Lastly, we want to define guidelines for a postcolonial understanding of the entangled history of mission at the interface of interrelated churches and Christians from the global “North” and “South”. I identify, therefore, the following wounds and vulnerabilities between various boundaries, correlated with each other.

4.1. A “Wounded Mission”: Who Were the Real “Victims” at Mount Meru?

We owe the following quote to the Dutch theologian Eleonora Dorothea Hof, currently teaching and researching at the Researcher Center for Global Christianity and Mission, Boston University: „Vulnerability is, in this case, the openness, both towards the human other and towards the Divine” (Hof 2016, p. 167). This statement may help us to understand more widely and deeply who may be designated as “victims” in an adequate ecumenical theological understanding of “witnessing the Christian faith until death” (Riccardi 2002).

4.2. The Victims of the “Akeri Killings” in the Military Contexts

I think we must understand that the whole narrative of the event exists in its entanglements as an example of the tragic conquest of East Africa by the German empire and its hegemonic interests. “Akeri 1896” is a symbol for how Germans dehumanized Africans who were supposed to be subjects of the empire, stealing their dignity. Is that all? No! If we ask the Meru and Arusha Christians of today, “Akeri 1896” is even a symbol of the resilience of the wounded Africans and a witness of their faith against terror and violence. “Faith” here means to accept this exceptional peace given by God and to gratefully receive new life. The apostle Paul emphasizes that one can only obtain this new life as a gift from God and not earn it through one’s own performance (Rom 3:24).

4.3. The “Evangelical Calendar of Names”, Questioning a Culture of Remembrance

The Protestant Calendar of Names is a directory comparable to the Catholic Calendar of Saints, containing mainly personalities of the pre-Reformation period and of Protestantism. It was drafted in the first half of the 20th century under the auspices of the Evangelical Michael Brotherhood and officially released by the Council of the Evangelical Church in Germany (EKD) in 1969. The Name Calendar in its current form is included as an appendix in the Sunday and Holiday Calendar published by the Liturgical Conference in the Protestant Church in Germany.

“20 October: Karl Segebrock † and Ewald Ovir † 1896 Martyrs”: The two names are in the calendar designated with a small cross, which refers, according to the calendar’s list of abbreviations, to “Blood Witness(es)” (not “martyrs”; comp. Schulz 1975, p. 102). In an oral tradition, Najabu, a Tanzanian co-worker, who was with them and could hide during the event in the shrubs, reports the very last words of Ovir addressing his murderers: „I die, but I thank you!“ (Müller and Faßmann 1897, pp. 12–19).

Whether this testimony is true or not (we cannot find that out anymore), we have to listen carefully to it because it has become already a relevant element of the discourse. There is nothing of hate of or of revenge in it. Its narration by African churches in their history until today, e.g., the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Tanzania (ELCT), gives already a clear expression of their agreement to fundamental Christian ethics, contradicting an ius talionis.

The reaction of the defeated German “protection force”, followed only after 11 days with the punitive expedition on the 31.10.1896, was due to the extremely difficult weather conditions, a so-called „Rain war”; Mattayo Kaaya, another person, a Meru boy who witnessed the event, reports the names of the men and women who were murdered and captured during the revenge of the Germans. I ask, should these murdered people, among them Arusha as well as Meru, not also be considered as “blood witnesses” or martyrs of another kind, per Mattayo’s witness (recorded by Klaus Peter Kiesel, in: Kitabu cha Matthayo Kaaya)?

Next, the grave at Akeri has to be understood as a place of remembrance and as a space where religious and worldly, missionary, and colonial interests culminate. In a postcolonial view we can deconstruct the “Real”; it is “not a narrative of events, but a series of symbolic systems”. The photograph of the place of the event was taken on the 20 October 1896 by Lieutenant Johannes, who made sure that the two murdered missionaries were buried. The place changed over the years as various depictions on photographs show. From today’s (last but not least social-anthropological) perspective I ask, Is it just a “graveyard”? Is not more of a “memorial”, a “mausoleum” or a religious “shrine” according to its use and purpose by the Christians of the evangelical-Lutheran Meru Diocese? It would go beyond the scope of this paper to pursue this question further, but “Akeri 1896” to me is the open wound of the beginnings of Christianity in the region of Mount Meru, Tanzania. At least, it is a place of remembrance. The plaque quotes Jacob 5:11 “Behold, we call blessed those who have endured”. It is kept as a symbol for the need of reconciliation among a finally completely defeated by death humanity of all sides, including the Germans and Africans of that region, colonizers as well as colonized, representing a humanity that ought to know that there is no victory except that of Christ.

5. Concluding Observations

To summarize, the results of this case study in respect of the research question (“What discursive entanglements emerge from the historiography of “Akeri 1896”?”) using the concept of entanglement historical analysis of the Leipzig Mission’s activities and the collapse of three colliding powers, respective of their entangled symbolic systems, I reflected on the death of two young German missionaries, caught in the crossfire between their intended community and the German colonial military. I try to present how, in this case, various symbolic systems such as that of the German Lutheran Christianity and its Leipzig mission, that of the German colonial military, that of the supposedly undefeatable expedition to East Africa, and that of the resisting African warriorhood, including its communal spirituality, collide and collapse progressively. Last but not least, we identify in the case of an expanding Christianity at the Meru, the transformation of a traditional religious symbolic system in reference to its own creative divine beyond. So, I conclude that from a mission-history point of view, it is not legitimate to call Ovir and Segebrock “martyrs”. I identify for this at least three reasons:

• This term theologically should not in a Christian-Protestant view be used. In opposition to a Roman-Catholic dogmatic understanding there does not exist a supposed martyrial bloodshed as a mean of grace that could substitute men’s sin;
• Historically, the missionaries did not die because of their faith but because they were seen as colonial invaders in alliance with the Schutztruppe in an extremely naive and miserably organized action from both actors, missionary and colonial;
• Their blood was shed because their lives had been “caught in the crossfire” between the fronts of two armies (Arusha-Maasai in defense and Schutztruppe in aggression), which collided.

Finally, one almost has to ask, is not it amazing that 125 years of this discourse has led to so many self-confident Christian communities between Kilimanjaro and Meru? Lutheran and other Tanzanian Christians living and practicing their faith there keep the memory on Ovir and Segebrock. Several ecclesiologically independent Tanzanian churches have developed in the Mount Meru area in the decades that followed the tragic events of Akeri: Evangelical Lutheran, Roman Catholic, Anglican, Evangelical, and Pentecostal. The entanglement history analysis shows that it is not a contradiction when I conclude that these first mission attempts at the end of the 19th century by the Leipzig Lutherans show how close failure and success in a mission are to each other, and can even emerge apart. Consequently, I suggest that the entangled historiography practiced here is a way of looking at things that can be made theologically fruitful and that it is not fitting in the case of “Akeri 1896” to understand “mission” as, depending on one’s own interpretation, as a bridge-builder, traitor and not least as victim.

The power of the forgiveness of the Gospel extends to all who understand each other mutually as victims and perpetrators and are in need of mutual forgiveness. This experienced and practised Tanzanian and German Christians in 1993, nearly 100 years after the deaths, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us”—with these words, Director of Leipzig Mission of that time Joachim Schlegel accepted the Makonde Cross presented to him by the Bishop of the Tanzanian Meru Diocese, Bishop Paulo Akyoo. He was moved by the fact that 97 years earlier, the missionaries Ewald Ovir and Karl Segebrock had lost their lives: “When the Meru Christians look back today look back on how history began with the killing of God’s messengers, we feel that this guilt is still on us. We wait for the promise of forgiveness, which we ask for in the liturgy”. Does not this ritual and the effective act of repentance mirror how guilt and forgiveness are entangled with one another? The “victim” confesses his misdoings* (* as debt in the modern sense implies monetary debt) and witnesses that he survives on the strength of God’s grace alone. Ovir and Segebrock are not martyrs but witnesses of God, sent beyond their entanglements in a mission into the machinery of war. Their aim was not to represent a corrupt imperial military system of the German protection force, but the love of God, following His call and performing His mission dei.