In a crappy little country which once called itself “Great” (on account of the number of races it had subjugated and the vast swathes of land it had annexed as its own) even the housewife realised that the kingdom’s ills were caused by migrants.
First Minster Chopthwack was himself from an immigrant family, but it was election year and he and his fascist cronies had to blame someone for the terrible mess they had made.
It was alright for Chopthwack and his mates of course. They were all worth a packet, some by dint of inheritance, some through advantageous marriage and some through the endless swindles of brute capitalism.
But the damn immigrants, that was another matter. They all came from third world shitholes where the inequality and appalling poverty was even worse. But why should their misery impact upon the Kingdom? Was it Chopthwack’s fault that these guys had been brutally raped and tortured by the ruling lovelies in the the hell holes they had escaped from?
So, blame the migrants, portray them as vermin (as once a magnificently successful but ultimately flawed dictator had labelled an entire race). Which he proceeded to exterminate.
Trouble is, you couldn’t stop the buggers pouring in anyway. Even if you let them drown in the hostile strip of water many crossed in toy rafts, others still came through, packed inside petrol tanks, strapped to aircraft wheels, or by walking through a tunnel.
So make the best of it! Blame the migrants! Pack ’em up in prison hulks like dear old Magwich. Shove ’em in holding bays. Make ’em suffer!
And above all let the voters know that society’s ills are the fault of migrants. Dehumanise them. Soon enough the stupid punters would be waving banners and cheering you on as you dragged the migrant by force through the streets, handcuffed him, and sent him off to a place which had in the past suffered brutality and genocide of an entirely satisfactory type.
Soon enough, Chopthwack would be suspending “democracy”, such as it was. And the people would egg him on! Applaud him, just like they had worshipped President Fart over the other side of the waters.
Fart had successfully brainwashed his own electorate into believing that he could make his country “great” again. And organised a putsch to make himself Mr President for life.
That was it! Chopthwack had a wonderful role model to follow! First Minister for Life! And all he had to do was send a few unwanted immigrants off to a better place. One of his henchmen, Lord Snooty, had explained to the Kingdom’s head holy man that getting kidnapped and forcibly exported in manacles to Bwanga was a “redemption”. A holy pilgrimage, nirvana, a life after death, a veritable heaven was Bwanga.
Despite the inconvenient fact that a short while ago one tribal faction in Bwanga turned against another and these kindly chaps hacked about a million of their fellow countrymen to death with machetes.
Anyway, what fault was that of Chopthwack’s? And so the rallies began and the Ministry of Propaganda portrayed the immigrants as the rats they undoubtedly were. Huge numbers of troops marched past the leaders’ dais and mutual salutes were exchanged to the accompanying roar of approval from the hypnotised masses.
It was to be a Thousand Year Empire. A period of unparalleled glory and plenty. Not for the ordinary folk of course – Chopthwack despised those losers, almost as much as the damned migrants.
What Chopthwack and his cronies really meant by their extravagant rhetoric was that in the next thousand years they would become richer and richer and would pay no taxes. And the untermensch scum they ruled over would be chained to the factory bench, or strapped in delivery vans delivering the useless consumer trash Chopthwack and his mates turned out to keep the wheels on the capitalist wagon.
And what of the Opposition? Did they bleat and shout and protest? And were they any better? Would the communist saints on the other side of the divide bring about the promised socialist utopia? Equality and plenty for all! Heaven on Earth! The Second Coming!
It seemed unlikely. Their comrades elsewhere had committed genocide on a commendable and unprecedented scale. Enemies of the Workers ‘ Paradise were killed with an efficiency even greater than the heroes who had massacred an entire race on their westerly borders.
So there you had it. Chopthwack and the right wing media were on a slash and burn. Extinguish the rats! Seize power! Do down the untermensch! Screw the whole damn country and get back into power. A 1000 year Empire!
The far left were equally vocal and really quite as venal.
For the truth is that 9/10ths of them despised the Unwashed as well. They too sought the 1000 year Reich but called it a “Soviet”. But with themselves at the helm. Pursuing of course identical policies.
Luscious country dachas for the ruling elite. The finest food and drink. Beluga caviar and the mighty chauffeur driven Zil.
If the left looked stupid blaming the Migrant Vermin they would find some other class of victim to wind up the gullible fools at home. Kulaks perhaps, intellectuals, Jews. Who cares!
And so our glorious species continues. Violence, greed, the insatiable and hollow desire for power and baubles. I’m alright Jack, sod the rest of ’em.
The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.
Who would have thought that the most sense made by a Commons politician in recent times was the feline-emulating George Galloway when he rightly mused that both parties were “two cheeks of the same arse”. Miaow!
It is good to have ended this story with Ecclesiastes.
What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.
10 Is there anything of which one can say,
“Look! This is something new”?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.
11 No one remembers the former generations,
and even those yet to come
will not be remembered
by those who follow them.