Stories for in the Campfire by Ronaldo Siète - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

History (from Greek ἱστορία, historia, meaning "inquiry, knowledge acquired by investigation") is the study of the past, particularly how it relates to humans. (Wikipedia)

“History repeats itself.” (Friedrich Nietzsche)

 

It was a dark night. Not a single light illuminated the deserted streets of the French capital. The year was 1789. The date was the 13th of July. Paris, the city of light, was living his darkest hour.

The only light that shone was the light of King Jerry Lee Louis XVI, the absolute number one of the country, of the world and of the Billboard Hot 100. His family, the House of Bourbon, dominated the whisky market and their greatest hit was their slogan: “Drown your problems in alcohol.” The biggest problem was that all the other problems were excellent swimmers, but that information was not included in the commercial campaign with which the Bourbons conquered the world.

The problems had started when the government found out that they had spent too much money on starting wars and ending economic crises. The only solution they could think of was to stop services and to raise taxes. Bread cost a fortune. Wine was only for the rich and noble. The smell of corruption was so awful that prices for French perfumes went up to $70 for a 100 ml bottle.

But all that would change, thanks to the result of one meeting in a dark, cold and wet basement in a house in the Rue Ful.

“Something has to change.”, said Luc le Duc, who sat at the left side of the table.

“Yes. Something has to change.”, said Remy Martin, who occupied the right side of the table.

“No. EVERYTHING has to change.”, said Marie-Claire, who sat in the middle. She was so poor that she didn’t even have a family name.

“We should kill King Louis. He caused all this misery.”, suggested Luc le Duc militant.

Remy Martin agreed: “Yes. The world is a jungle and King Louis is the buffoon that’s leading it. I know it sounds like fiction, like a novel of Rudyard Kipling, but it is not. This is reality and if we don’t do something, we’ll never live long enough to see the happy end.”

Marie-Claire did not agree. She said: “I don’t agree. Killing King Louis will not solve anything. It will only be another example of the saying ‘The King is dead, long live the King’. King Jerry Lee Louis will be followed by King Elvis or by Nat King Cole or by Michael King Of Pop and we’ll just keep singing the same song over and over again. It can only get worse: we might end up with an emperor. Would you like Bourbon Whisky to be replaced by Cognac Napoleon? No, my friends. We should not focus on who to blame but we should think about how to do it better.”

Silence dominated the room. All three were thinking.

“Refreshments?”, asked Marie-Claire, holding a jar with muddy water from the river Seine.

“Revenge.”, responded Luc.

“Recovery.”, returned Remy.

“Reformation.”, recommended Luc.

“Resistance.”, referred Remy.

“Rebellion!”, shouted Luc.

“Republic!”, screamed Remy.

“Revolution!!!”, resumed both in unison.

“Relax! Reflection, responsibility, realism, research, reason, respect, redemption, relation, reliability, recycling, results.”, recited Marie-Claire.

All three fell silent.

“We’re not making progress.”, Luc said.

“We should read books. We should learn from the lessons history taught us. As long as we don’t learn, nothing will change…”, Marie-Claire suggested.

“History is the same story all over again. We fight, the winner takes it all and the losers pay the price.”, explained Remy.

“Well, in that case, we should make sure we win. We should kill King Louis. We’re with millions against one.”, Luc added.

“We’ll need the mob.”, Marie-Claire thought.

“The Mob? Do you want to ask Don Corleone and his family to help us out? Sacrifice our beloved French cuisine for pizza and spaghetti? You’ve got to be joking, Marie-Claire.”, Luc replied.

“No. The mob. The masses. The people on the street. We should do this together. We should not look at history. We should think about the future, a world without violence, a world for all the people, not only for the leaders. And there is only one way to do it: we should do it together. To kill a dragon, you stop feeding it. What will happen if we all agree and stop paying taxes? The King would lose his power and instead of bloodshed we would all benefit economically. But we have to do it together…”, Marie-Claire explained.

Now, Remy and Luc understood. But they also saw the problem that rose: “When we want to unite the people, we’ll need to convince them first. We have to promise something they can believe in.”, said Luc.

“Yes. We’ll need some sort of slogan, something that’s easy to remember, something that stands for our philosophy.”, added Remy.

“What a great idea. What do we do first? Do we start with the philosophy or do we start with the slogan?”, Marie-Claire asked.

Remy had an idea: “I have an idea for the slogan: Liberté. That’s French and it means Freedom. People like to have freedom: freedom of speech, free trade, and free holidays. It’s the opposite of ‘rights’, all those limitations of freedom the King and the nobles use to make sure that they are the ones who benefit from everything. Imagine a world with free books, free education for everyone…”

With so much inspiration, Luc could not stay behind: “I have another idea for the slogan: Egalité. That’s French and it means equality. When we all have equal rights, it would end the days of difference between rich and poor. Equality is also the opposite of ‘rights’, of all those rules that the elite has invented to make life easier for themselves and worse for us, the workers and consumers. Imagine a world where everybody has the same options, where everybody could go to university…”

Marie-Claire was inspired too: “My idea of a slogan is Fraternité. That’s French and it means brotherhood. We have to do this together, like brothers, like one big family. If we do it together, it might work. If we only act for ourselves, it can only lead to another King Louis.”

Remy did not agree with the equality of Luc: “Does your equality also mean that the blacks and the coloured will get the same rights as the whites? Does that include the end of slavery too? Does that include that women have the same rights as men? Can you imagine a world where women go to the university and men stay at home to have babies? Does that mean that women and men will use the same public bathroom in your world? Impossible, Luc. This is no science fiction novel. This is reality.”

Luc was furious: “Do you think your idea of freedom is a better solution? Freedom only leads to the survival of the fittest. The only difference between this world and your world is that your world will be dominated by the Kings of Industry, by the rich elite that benefits from all that freedom. If we want something new, we should avoid that the strong profit from the weak. On the contrary: we should go for equality, so the rich can help the poor, the strong can support the sick and the old, and the wise can teach the stupid. Equality does not mean that everybody is the same, but that everybody has the same rights, and that all have to pay the same price for that right: contribute to society so society can help you when you need it.”

“We already have that, Luc. Take care of the King, so the King can take care of you. What do you suggest? That working people give their income to others who do nothing? Equality will never work!”, Remy shouted.

Marie-Claire stood up, raised her hands and said: “And NOW you both shut up and listen to me. Do you know why history tells the same violent story in every age? That’s because history was written by men. When you ask men for a solution, they can only think of violence for an answer. You should listen to us, the women. We use words. In our world, it’s not the Law of the Jungle and the right of the strongest that counts. We use the truth, words, elections: peaceful and democratic. We use the principle of Brotherhood. I’m not telling you to listen to me, but I’m telling you that I’ve also listened to you. You are both right, and so am I. Therefore, I suggest that we join forces. We should stop fighting ourselves and focus on fighting the real enemy, the King and his system in which the leader takes it all. We should do this together. We should change our slogan. I suggest…”

Marie-Claire dropped a theatrical pause, a small trick to give maximum emphasis to the words she would say now, words that would change the future of mankind, words that would start a new era, a better world, for everyone. She opened her mouth to say the historical words, the slogan that would inspire Paris, France, Europe, the universe…

“I suggest: Liberté, Egalité et Fraternité. Freedom, equality and brotherhood. Freedom, with the equal obligation for everyone to take care of those who need help and brotherhood to make sure it works out well. Why do we have to choose between left and right if all we want is to go forward?”

Remy and Luc dropped a jaw, closed their mouths again, looked at each other, looked at Marie-Claire, laughed and danced and slapped each other on the shoulder, excited about this wonderful solution: “Great idea. Join forces. Freedom, equality and brotherhood. That will convince everyone. The right side of Paris will love the Freedom-part. The left side of Paris will be thrilled about the Equality and the centre of Paris will join the others because they are convinced that we should do it together. What a fantastic slogan. And that idea of you about elections, that’s great too. We start with storming the Bastille, but when all that is over, we can start thinking about elections and everything that goes with it.”

Marie-Claire still had a small doubt: “Storming the Bastille? Back again to that old monkey/caveman-behaviour of violence? Didn’t we agree…”

“Yes, woman, yes, you’re right. But you have to understand that it takes time to convince the world. We don’t have that time. The people of Paris are dying. They have nothing to eat. We should act. The slogan is great, but we’re not filling hungry stomachs with words only, my dear. We should also do something. So tomorrow we shout the slogan, then we storm the Bastille and…”

Marie-Claire objected: “No. Tomorrow it’s the 14th of July, our national holiday. I promised the children to go to the park, to feed the ducks. If we’re lucky, we can catch one or two for dinner…”

Remy and Luc soothed their friend: “Don’t you worry, Marie-Claire. You go with the kids to the park, you go home to fix dinner and you wait sans culotte until your man returns from work. We take care of the rest. Brotherhood, right? We’ll do this together. So you leave it to us and we make sure it will all work out fine…”

Marie-Claire was at ease now, but she forgot one tiny little detail: her contribution to the slogan was Brotherhood. Not Sisterhood or Humanityhood, but Brotherhood. She left it all to the brothers, to the men. Men have fighting in their DNA. Men survived history for being the most aggressive species on the planet. Men spend their time with fighting wars and watching football (which is the modern version of war: you pick sides, you fight the FA-battle of Wembley and the winner takes it all).

The men were not as good with words as the women. The men did not remember the most important word of the slogan Liberté, Egalité et Fraternité: the word ET (and). They changed that word into OR. They organised themselves in parties who either thought that Freedom was the only way to rule the world or who were convinced that Equality was the best way to organise society. Brotherhood was forgotten. This little mistake, and to or, gave men the excuse to fight for at least 200 years more.

There is still hope. We never give up. Imagine a woman as the leader of the world. That could make a difference. Or not. It could also mean: Now, the new absolute number one of the country, of the world and of the Billboard Hot 100: QUEEN. Another one bites the dust.

As long as we don’t learn, nothing will change.

Who will tell them?