More than 100 years ago, German colonists destroyed the cultural heritage of the Chagga people in Tanzania. Now the Chagga are trying to regain their eroded history through books by German missionary to the region, Bruno Gutmann, the author’s great-grandfather, who documented their traditions during his time in the region. This article is an abridged version that recently featured in World Crunch.
By Tilman Prufer
My great-grandfather had written about their rites, their fairy tales, and their legal system. Representatives of the Chagga people had approached Katja Keul, one of Germany’s three Foreign Ministers of State under Foreign Minister Annalena Baerbock, and asked whether these books could be translated into Kiswahili—because his books are almost the only evidence left of their rich culture.
Threatened with Extinction
Bruno Gutmann was born on July 4, 1876, in Dresden, Germany. He lived with the Chagga people for almost 30 years, building a school, a hospital, and several communities there. He was a great admirer of their culture, which he considered to be more down-to-earth and purer than those of Western civilizations obsessed with the idea of progress.
He was looking for people who still lived in harmony with nature. That is why he was so against the opinion of many of his fellow missionaries, who believed the local population should learn German and adapt their way of life to Western culture. He learned Kichagga, the language of the Chagga, translated the New Testament into this language, and founded a dance group for traditional dances.
He also witnessed how the culture of the Chagga was threatened with extinction—how the teachings, songs, and wisdom could no longer be passed on because the young men had to work on the whites’ plantations or migrated to the new cities.
Like almost all ethnic groups in East Africa, the Chagga had no written tradition. All knowledge was passed on orally: reports about famous ancestors, techniques of cultivation and hunting, legal norms and laws, and many fairy tales, songs, dances, parables, and rituals.
My great-grandfather saw the West penetrating the world on the holy mountain, and he saved as much as he could by documenting it in writing, namely in the books.
“As a German, I Am Ashamed of What Our Ancestors Did”
Translation and Restitution
Germany could, in fact, return something to the Chagga—their lost history. At the German embassy in Dar es Salaam, discussions were held on how stolen cultural assets and hoarded skulls from Tanzania could be returned.
My great-grandfather’s first book, a Chagga hero saga, has just been translated into Kiswahili, and I was in Tanzania for the handover of the book to communities in the Kilimanjaro region.
English translation: The Chaggaland and fine christian writings by Bruno Gutmann.
The first major colonial war of extermination on African soil was led by Germans. German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier came to Tanzania in 2021 on a state visit to ask for forgiveness for the first time in history—for the crimes that Germany committed in Tanzania during its colonial era, long before the two world wars.
Between 1905 and 1907, Germany wiped out about a third of the population to crush the Maji Maji uprising. Up to 300,000 people died. It was the first major colonial war of extermination on African soil, and it was led by Germans.
Very few people in Germany know about it. Nor is anyone aware that Mangi Meli, one of the leaders of the Chagga, was hanged in 1900 because he was accused of conspiracy. He is also said to have refused to pay a hut tax to the colonial administration—an incomprehensible tax for the locals, who had built their huts themselves.
This was how the colonial administration wanted to force people to work on the plantations—to earn money that the Chagga had not needed before the arrival of the whites. After the execution, Meli’s head was cut off, boiled, and sent to Germany. The same happened with thousands of other skulls.
The Handover of the Book
The handover of the book took place at the very place where my great-grandfather once preached, in Kidia, Old Moshi. It’s true—I had actually been here once before when I wrote a book about my great-grandfather. Since then, I had been in email contact with the people from the Chagga communities from time to time but had not heard anything from them for a long time. And now, I am here.
I understood from the program that the handover of the book would take place at the very place where my great-grandfather once preached, in Kidia, Old Moshi, a village on a plateau on the slopes of Kilimanjaro, nestled between avocado trees and banana plants.
As Festive As It Can Be
The old church, which my great-grandfather did not build but greatly expanded, still stands. Today, the building is used for children’s services. Right next door, a larger, less picturesque church is being built; it is huge because the Christian communities here have also become huge.
There is a poster hanging at the entrance to the site. It says, “Welcome” and “The Writings of Bruno Gutmann: A Gift to the Chagga,” along with a picture of my great-grandfather, a grumpy-looking man with a pointed white beard. Dancers wave palm fronds (yuccas, to be precise), cheer, and trill.
The church building, still half a construction site, is decorated—bows and flags are tied all around the concrete pillars, and garlands are strung up. It is as festive as it can be.
Here, I am probably the one who is the most critical of the missionary movement. My great-grandfather tried very hard to preserve the Chagga culture, but he never doubted the legitimacy of the Germans to establish colonies in Africa, even though he had plenty of opportunities to do so after his return.
Then, the first translated book is distributed—the biography of Chief Rindi, written by my great-grandfather. The village elders get a copy, as do teachers from the neighboring schools, and I do, too. A website is launched, run by the initiative in Tübingen and the University of Dar es Salaam. My great-grandfather’s translations (and those of others) will gradually be published on the internet, in Kiswahili!
The Skull of Mangi Meli
The next day, there was an event to commemorate the murder of Mangi Meli. There is a memorial on the spot where he was murdered—a concrete stele with a golden bust of Meli on it. He was hanged with 18 other Chagga leaders, right in front of the military station.
Mangi Meli: His suffering is said to have lasted more than six hours because his neck did not break and the rope did not strangle him properly.
The tree is still standing. It is hard to imagine how 19 people could fit on a tree. The Germans were looking for the greatest possible humiliation. The execution was botched and cruel. Meli’s suffering is said to have lasted more than six hours because his neck did not break and the rope did not strangle him properly.
Katja Keul
In her speech, Keul recalled the murder of the Chagga leaders. The colonial occupation was brutal and unlawful. She tells stories of murder and punitive expeditions, of heads cut off and shipped to Germany. The victims were not even given a dignified burial.
“As a German, I am ashamed of what our ancestors did,” she says. She apologizes on behalf of the German government. She speaks of the skulls of the deceased having to be returned to Tanzania—once and if they will be found. And that knowledge of the crimes in Tanzania must be increased in German society. She sounds sincere, not dutiful.
Check out this story: “One of the good white guys—right? A German seeks his ancestor’s truth in Tanzania.”
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