The Strange War Page 4
king he will do all the things that kings do.”
“Then why are kings different?”
“Because the way they make a living is different. My grandfather said, that apart from farmers there were also hunters in the old times. They were living in the woods and hunting animals. They too did not fight with each other for land. Each group had their own hunting grounds and they could not use bigger hunting grounds. But one day the weather got drier and the woods got smaller and the animals in the woods got less. And the hunters discovered a new sort of prey. They discovered the farmers with their storehouses full of seeds for next year and their goats and sheep and pigs. They would steal from the farmers, and when the farmers tried to defend themselves they would kill them. The hunters were better at using weapons, my grandfather said, because they had been using them every day. And soon they discovered it was better for them not to kill all the farmers and not to take away everything from them. Because if the farmers survived and had some seeds and some fodder left, they would plant corn again and would raise animals again and the next year they could be robbed again. And some clever chiefs made a treaty with the farmers and told them: If you pay me a tribute every year, I will defend you against other robbers. So the hunters became warriors and their chiefs became kings.
Now for a king owning land is a different thing. Because a king does not work on the land himself. He has the peasants who work and give him corn and butter and meat and wool and other things. The king does not eat or use all this himself. He uses it to feed and clothe his soldiers and his priests and the smiths who make the swords and the bow makers who make the bows and arrows for the soldiers and the builders who make palaces and temples. And all this he uses to conquer more land to get more tribute to feed more soldiers to conquer more land to get more tribute to feed more soldiers to conquer more land and so on.”
“So if there would be no kings there would be no wars?”
“If there were no people who live on the work of other people, at least the fighting would not be endless as it is now. Maybe there would be no palaces and the temples would be smaller and there would not be so many artists who make beautiful jewellery and grand statues because nobody could afford that sort of thing. The carpets would not be so colourful, but everyone would have simple carpets and not sleep on the naked floor. Maybe there would be a fight now and then, but it would end.”
“So the fighting will not end any more?” I asked grandfather.
“Maybe after many thousand years, when all the world is only one kingdom.”
“But can we not get back to the way it was before there were kings?”
“I don't think so”, said grandfather, “How could that be? The soldiers have swords and bows and arrows. And what do we have?”
“But what if all the peasants in the world would agree not to feed the kings and their soldiers any more?”
“It is not possible”, said grandfather. “Who would send the messengers to all of them?”
When the soldiers had gone, the village was empty. All the animals had been killed or taken away, all the grain had been taken from the storehouses and burned. Even our hoes and sickles were gone. Grandfather showed us how to fish in the river and how to cook some wild plants, and somehow we got through the dry season. And then some corn would grow on the fields from some seeds that had fallen to the ground at the harvest, and we would not bake a single loaf but keep it all to sow it again. Little by little we brought the fields back to life again. Mother died and then grandfather died too, and my little brother married a girl from the neighbouring village and they had a child.
And one day the soldiers came.
Two Fighters
Two fellows were giving each other a tough fight. One was big, the other was fat, one was heavy, the other tough, one was strong, the other was wild.
The strong one broke the wild one’s nose. And he felt: he’s got a nose like mine.
The wild one broke the strong one’s ribs. And he felt: these ribs crack just like mine.
The strong one gouged out one of the wild one’s eyes. And he felt: that eye is soft and delicate just like mine.
The wild one kicked the strong one in the stomach. And he felt: this stomach gives way just like mine.
The strong one choked the wild one’s throat. And he felt: he needs air to breathe just like I do.
The wild one jammed his fist into the strong one’s heart. And he felt: his heart beats just like mine. When both of them fell down and couldn’t get up again, they both thought: “He’s just like me, that guy.”
But that didn’t do them much good any more.
Man Against Man
One day when they made Mr. Balaban a recruit, the drill sergeant announced, “All right, today we’re going to practice man to man fighting. That’ll be very important for you when the balloon goes up!”
“Ah,” Mr. Balaban replied, “if it really comes to man to man fighting when the balloon goes up – could you then show me my man? Maybe he and I can patch things up!”
The Great War on Mars
The Great War on Mars had come to an end.
Weary and sad of heart, the pink Gnuffs trudged home. “No more wars. Never again!” they moaned. They had lost the war.
Weary and sad, the purple Moffers also trudged home. “No more wars. Never again!” they groaned, even though they had won the war.
But on the battlefield lay almost as many dead Moffers as dead Gnuffs, and a terrible amount of green blood had been shed. The Supreme President of the Gnuffs and the High King of the Moffers met at the river that made up the border between their countries and agreed to a treaty.
“Never again shall there be a war between the Gnuffs and the Moffers,” they promised each other. And in both countries the people held huge peace celebrations.
“Let’s send our general into retirement!” the Gnuffs cried at their celebration.
“Let’s give our field marshal the pink slip!” shouted the Moffers at their celebration.
“We’ll have the soldiers plant strawberries!” yelled the Gnuffs.
“We’ll give the soldiers sewing machines!” exclaimed the Moffers.
But the general of the Gnuffs said, “You can’t do that. If we no longer have a general or soldiers, then the Moffers will immediately fall upon us. We must have a strong, alert army so that there will never be another war!”
And the field marshal of the Moffers said, “You can’t do that. When the Gnuffs see that we no longer have an army, surely they’ll immediately take revenge for the lost war. So we need soldiers and a field marshal.”
“Oh well, I guess you’re right,” the Gnuffs grumbled.
“I suppose he must be right,” muttered the Moffers.
And then everybody went home and back to work, the Gnuffs to their towers and the Moffers to their caves.
And the Gnuff general said to himself, “I don’t want another war again, but if I don’t show them that I’m an able general, they’ll send me into retirement.” And he said to the Supreme President, “Our army is in need of more swords, so we won’t be attacked anymore. Please demand higher taxes, so that we can buy more swords from the blacksmiths.” And the Supreme President did just that. And the blacksmiths said to themselves, “We don’t want another war, but if we sell lots of swords, we can afford the expensive schools for our children.” And the blacksmith journeymen said to themselves, “We don’t want another war, but if we say we don’t want to make swords, our bosses will throw us out, and then our children will have nothing to eat.”
And the field marshal of the Moffers said to himself, “I want peace, but if I don’t show them that I’m a capable field marshal, they might sack me.” And he said to the Head King of the Moffers, “I heard the Gnuffs are buying swords for their army. Please raise the taxes, so that we can attract more soldiers to the army.” And the Head King raised the taxes and more soldiers joined the army. And the Moffer farmers said to themselves, “We want peace, but if we don’t sell po
tatoes to the army, we won’t be able to pay the new taxes.” And the tailors said, “We want peace. But the more soldiers there are in the army, the more uniforms we can sell.” And the spear makers said, “We want peace, but the more soldiers there are, the more spears we can sell.”
And then it happened that an inventor among the Gnuffs discovered a poison, a terribly strong poison. But to the Gnuffs it was harmless; it was only deadly to Moffers. “I don’t want to do anything bad to anybody,” said the inventor to himself, “but if I keep my inventions to myself, I won’t be able to pay the milk lady.” And in a book, he wrote how to produce the poison.
And then it happened that a Moffer professor discovered how to build a bomb that could destroy everything above ground but was harmless to Moffers because they lived in caves. “I wish no one harm,” said the professor to himself, “but I have to make my discovery known, or else the people will think that I don’t know anything about my science.” And he wrote a book explaining how to build the bomb. When the Moffer field marshal heard about it, he said to the Head King, “We really have to build this bomb because I heard that the Gnuffs have a terrible poison that they can use against us.”
And the Gnuff general said to the Supreme President, “We really have to produce this poison because I heard that the Moffers have a dangerous bomb that they can use against us.”
And so the poison was mixed...
...and the bomb