XI: HIGH POLITICS
The streets were full of young men in uniform. In the parks were young men without uniform being drilled. Except for policemen, hall-porters, street-scavengers, the town was empty, and when Siebenhaar asked a policeman why it was so, he was informed that everybody had gone to look at the island.
Said the constable: “There was nothing like it since I was a boy, when the war began.”
Siebenhaar was taken aback.
“How long?” he said.
“Well! It’ll be a matter of fifteen years now, though it’s difficult to remember. It goes on. Things get quiet in the winter. Then it begins again with the fine weather, with a new list of Fatter atrocities. Then there’s a new promise from the Emperor of Grossia; then we have another rally of the Empire and things become livelier.”
“I am astonished,” said Siebenhaar, “that a great free nation like the Fattish should tolerate such a state of affairs.”
“Bless you,” said the policeman, “I’ve forgotten what peace was like. There’s a few old gentlemen hold meetings to talk about it, but we’re used to it by now. I remember there used to be scares about our being invaded, but they soon came to an end. We all take our spell at the fighting, and, if we come home, settle down to work of one sort or another. There’s no doubt about it, the Fatters would make a nasty mess of things if we didn’t keep them bottled up.”
Siebenhaar protested: “Surely you yourselves are making a nasty mess of things?”
“Oh!” replied the policeman. “That’s over the water. You soon forget about it when you get back home. It would be funny, sir, if that there island were to put a stop to the war. We’d hardly know what to do with our young men.”
Siebenhaar’s blood boiled. A great nation, with a tradition of freedom, could acquiesce in such arrest of its life, such wanton sacrifice of its youth!
He visited the Lord High Chief and found him just out of his bed in a suit of blue silk pajamas. Breakfast was laid before him and he offered Siebenhaar coffee. It was refused.
“I am come, sir, to tell you that the island will not be used to assist you. It will be used to stop the war.”
“Stop the——?”
“As I say.”
“Come, come, sir. The war cannot be stopped until all parties to it agree to our terms of settlement. It is a matter of high politics, which it takes an expert to understand. We have the matter well in hand. The country was told at the beginning that it was to be a long war. It will be finished when our terms are agreed upon and not before.”
“And those terms are——?”
“They are known to my colleagues and myself. When the settlement is concluded they will be laid before the country.”
“And have you, sir, during the last fifteen years ever risked your life on land or sea? Have you suffered in pocket or in health? Have you been deprived of even a luxury?”
“For fifteen years I have been the hardest worked man in the country. I have practically lived in this office. When things were going badly with us I made speeches up and down the country.”
“Asking young men to give their lives and thank God for the privilege of dying before they had tasted the full sweetness of life.”
“It is their country’s life against theirs.”
“You say so.”
“The Fatters will make an end of us if they don’t.”
“Have you made an end of the Fatters?”
“No. But we will before we have done.”
“Are the Fatter women all stricken with barrenness?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then you cannot make an end of the race.”
“We can smash their Empire.”
“A word. Can you smash a word? You seem to me, sir, to talk and act as though a nation were an abstraction instead of a collection of human beings, bound together by language, manners, and religion.”
“It is a matter of high politics.”
“It seems to me, sir, that war is the logical outcome of your view of national life, and that a nation without a war is not a nation. I should imagine that a war greatly facilitates the task of government. The rich can always be trusted to look after themselves, but the poor are rendered impotent. I cannot raise a hand to support either such a view or such a condition. You have attained the ideal of high politics, the sacrifice of domestic affairs to international relations. I congratulate you. I decline all further hospitality at your hands. My young friend has already realized one of his ambitions. I shall request the Emperor of Fatterland to satisfy the other. We shall go to Fatterland to-morrow and see the war which you have been able to confine to other countries.”
“Herr Siebenhaar,” shouted the Lord High Chief, “you shall do no such thing. The public has taken the island to its heart. You will consider yourself under arrest.”
Siebenhaar smiled sweetly:
“I have seen the Fattish public take Mr. George Samways to its heart and I have seen it reject him. I do not think you will arrest me, for, before leaving the island we arranged an explosion to take place two days from now in case of our non-return. Such an explosion would project thousands of tons of rock over your city.”