Wizard of the Crow

speak-he just continued. He reminded the ambassador and the special envoy of what he did when he assumed the presidency of the country. America seems to have forgotten how, in the early days of the cold war, he had crushed the Communist insurgency in Aburiria.

“You heard me laugh, and you may have wondered why,” he went on. “I was bemused by the short memory of a superpower.”

The Buler was proud of having eliminated seven thousand and seven hundred citizens in just seven days for posing a threat to the stability through protests in the major cities demanding social change. He would take this opportunity, he said, to renew old friendships and earn their trust by showing that he had not forgotten how to use strong-arm tactics against dissidents.

“What I did before against Communists, I can do again against terrorists!” he said slowly and deliberately, and then turned to the heads of the army and the police.

“Yes,” the head of the military said, “we are waiting for this ragtag army, first reported to us by a motorcycle rider, to reach the capital. Then we shall encircle it with the armored cars and the latest guns you sold to us some time ago-old, but against unarmed civilians, still lethal-”

“A national massacre. To be televised. Live,” added the head of the police with unmistakable pride.

“You have heard from the horses’ own mouths,” the Buler said, turning toward the special envoy and Ambassador Gemstone. “Everything is under control,” he added. “Have no fear of those who threaten your interests and ours, for gunfire awaits them.”

The envoy cleared his throat and said: “You have actually touched on one of the issues that our president wanted me to discuss with you. The West and the civilized world are eternally grateful to you for your role in our victory over the evil empire. We are now embarking on a new mission of forging a global order. That is why I am now visiting all our friends to tell them to move in step with the world. To everything its season, says the preacher. There was a time when slavery was good. It did its work, and when it finished creating capital, it withered and died a natural death. Colonialism was good. It spread industrial culture of shared resources and markets. But to revive colonialism would now be an error. There was a time when the cold war dictated our every calculation in domestic and international relations. It is over. We are in the post-cold war era, and our calculations are affected by the laws and needs of globalization. The history of capital can be summed up in one phrase: in search of freedom. Freedom to expand, and now it has a chance at the entire globe for its theater. It needs a democratic space to move as its own logic demands. So I have been sent to urge you to start thinking about turning your country into a democracy. Who knows? Maybe with your blessings, some of your ministers might even want to form opposition parties.”

“No, no,” the ministers hastened to say, almost in unison. “We in Aburlria know only One Truth, One Party, One Country, One Leader, One God.”

“Your views and ours are not too far apart,” the envoy explained. “Let me make our position clear. We cannot build a global economy under the old politics of the cold war. What we are saying is this: many parties, one aim-a free and stable world where our money can move across borders without barriers erected by the misguided nationalism of the outmoded nation-state. The goal is to free up the resources and energies of the globe. All your countries and peoples will benefit.”

The Ruler was angry at being lectured in front of his ministers. He had invited them so that they could hear for themselves a special envoy delivering an apology, and instead of I am sorry they were hearing him being reprimanded and ordered about. He tried to control his anger, genuinely puzzled at how his relationship with Washington, London, Berlin, and Paris had so soured as to compel them to dispatch a special envoy to chastise him in front of his cabinet. In the days of the cold war, they used to shower him with praises for dispatching thousands of his own people to eternal silence. And now, even after he had assured them that he was ready to repeat what he had done for them, they were lecturing him about restraint and the new global order! He now stood on injured dignity. He had to show his ministers that he was not afraid of the special envoy, even if he was an emissary of the West.

“Mr. Special Envoy, I want you to know that our country is independent, and we cannot allow ourselves to take orders from the West all the time. We have said good-bye to colonialism and left it on the dunghills of twentieth- century history. I want to remind you that we are in Africa, and we, too, have our African forms of governance. The democracy that is suitable for America and Europe is not necessarily suitable for Africa. In our country we have a saying that one does not build his home according to the needs of his neighbor. We don’t try to keep up with the Joneses, as you Americans would say.”

“We are your friends,” the envoy replied, “and friends deepen their friendship by speaking openly to one another.”

“Then let’s agree to disagree,” the Ruler said, and then he asked, with a touch of impatience, if that was all that had brought him to Aburlria.

The special envoy said that he indeed had another message but he was afraid that it was only for the Ruler’s ears, as he glanced nervously at the ministers.

The Ruler would have preferred that the apology be delivered in front of his ministers. The imminent apology would ameliorate the humiliation he had suffered in America before them. But still his face lit up because the ministers would now see that his relationship with America was still close enough to warrant a message that could only be delivered to him privately by a special emissary of the most powerful presidency in the world.

The ministers left the room. The envoy did not waste time with polite preliminaries.

“As I said a few minutes ago, friends are friends because they can speak to one another freely. And that is why my president sent me, because he and other leaders of the West are concerned about reports concerning your health and condition-you know, uh, some thoughts are difficult to put into words. Your Excellency, I am sure you know what I am talking about: the rumor that has prompted international media to descend on your country. We have also heard that you are thinking of building or growing a money-making plant to produce dollars and other Western currencies. I am sure you know that any unauthorized printing and circulation of dollars is not only a crime in international law but would destabilize ours and the global economy, and the West would not tolerate that. We do not believe any of it, of course, and I shall not dignify the rumors by asking you if they are true. But there are a few other things not in doubt. There is your publicly stated intention to put up a kind of latter-day Tower of Babel, what you call Marching to Heaven. So your friends in the West are asking you this: Have you, Your Mighty Excellency, ever thought of taking it easy? I mean, like taking a rest-a vacation or something? I think it was your ancestors who said that age needs to pass on the torch of wisdom to youth. You have youthful ministers who love you and share your vision. They said as much in front of us. We are wondering, and I was told to stress that this is only a suggestion from friends, why you don’t take things easy and cede the presidency to one of these young men so they can relieve you of the daily stress? Your ancestors said something about a stone of ages and wisdom. You could become an elder statesman dispensing advice born of long experience.’’

If the envoy had been a citizen of Aburlria, he would have faced a firing squad on the spot. The Buler understood only too well what they were telling him: that he was senile and no longer fit to govern. Their position puzzled him because it was riddled with obvious contradictions. Here they were cautioning him against the use of force only to tell him minutes afterward that he is unable to exercise power! How can they tell him not to unleash the army on his own people and then accuse him of being too senile to do it? He felt like throwing them out of his presence but fought to keep his composure, wondering which of his ministers they had in mind as a successor.

The envoy thought that the Buler was softening and was giving his proposal serious consideration, so he hastened to make it more attractive.

“Thank you for even considering what I have said. You are very wise, Your Excellency, and the West will make sure that you retire with all your wealth and that of your family and friends completely intact. We can even help it to multiply. And also, we can make sure that your successor passes a law to ensure that you are never brought to court on charges involving any of your actions during your tenure as the head of the state. And of course if you feel that you have to move to another country, that, too, can be arranged.”

“I should say thank you,” the Ruler sighed, “for you have spoken the truth. We rulers are vain, and we never realize when age has knocked at the door and lodged snugly within us,” he continued in a weary voice. “But believe me, I have often thought of getting rid of this burden of leadership so I can have time to enjoy my grandchildren. The problem is in really knowing which of the young men around me I should trust to steer the nation in the right direction.”