Yet a fifth facet of similarity relates to the fact that both demanded, and did not receive, respect due to the leaders of free nations in their dealings with the Europeans. In the era of "gun boat" diplomacy the idea of a black sovereign demanding respect from white men on pain of death must have struck the European adventurers then descending on the Horn of Africa as most preposterous. As Sven Rubenson writes in King of Kings: Tewodros of Ethiopia : "Tewodros is the father of modern Ethiopia in the sense that he conceived the idea of a united, strong, and progressive Ethiopian state, the peer of any other state in the world."9 The peer of any other state in the world! Therein lies the rub. Imperial Europe, expansionist, seemingly militarily unstoppable (until Minilik II came along) and openly racist, was unlikely to accept the idea of an African peer. On a similar note, the Sayyid wrote the British in 1897: "We are a government. We have a sultan, and amirs, or princes, and chiefs and subjects." In other words, to be respected and taken seriously as the leaders of sovereign nations is what both men aspired to and failed to receive from a racist Europe. But respect was not forthcoming, and this led to one man's honorable suicide at Maqdala in Ethiopia (1868), and the bombardment and consequent destruction of the other man's state at the plains of Taleeh in northern Somalia in 1920.
Finally, the central animating point of my comparative attempt concerns the question of madness, a charge that persistently stalked both men. The record makes it abundantly clear, to my mind at least, that both men became, toward the end of their tempestuous lives, mentally unhinged, or simply demented. In both cases, the men who began their careers as compassionate visionaries deteriorated in the end into homicidal lunatics, unleashing a reign of terror on their terrified subjects, savagely beating up people, even murdering them for no more reason than that their victims happened to be in their path. They suffered the fate of men of genius too sensitive to endure the frustration of being unfulfilled, the humiliation of defeat and the despair of utter failure. So, they went their separate ways into annihilative self-destruction. In January 1921, after defeat and imminent death, the Sayyid seems to have sustained episodes of mental dislocation: referring to the aerial bombardment, the Sayyid was heard to remark that he did not mind the birds (airplanes) whose droppings singed his sartorial resplendence - white robe and all. Rather, he was hurt by the damaging imputation to his ancestry that the leaflets dropped from the planes made. "My origin has apparently been forgotten," the Sayyid fulminated, "I am the son of Ras Makhail's brother and I am the cousin of Lij Yasu, the prince of Abyssinia," a claim that the British colonial historian of the period dismissed with the rider: "It would puzzle even a Somali genealogist to discover the common origin of their respective families, unless, indeed, the devil was the ancestor whom both these rascals share."