Once upon a time, there was this island nation, which for a considerable period had been ruled by those who fought in its revolution. When the torch of power was to be handed for the first time to a generation once removed from the scorched earth of civil war, there emerged one man, who though short in physical stature, in another sense stood trunk and torso above all other leaders. This man was widely regarded as the most brilliant, charismatic and most visionary of his generation, the ideal instrument for the next phase of national development.
Gradually, the people too came to see this. However, in the hearts of the mediocrities surrounding him, there remained a reluctance to face reality. Though lesser men all, by virtue of coming from a higher stratum of society than the great pretender, they felt superior to this man of lowly origins. And so, although lacking any remotely comparable qualities or abilities, they nurtured ambitions to lead.
An opportunity arose. The conflict which had abated in the State some decades previously had continued intermittently in another, still-occupied part of the national territory, and now had broken out again. The escalating conflagration threatened to spill over and engulf the fledgling republic. This fear, however, was for most of the people much less important than a sense that help must be extended to their brethren. The mediocrities saw the opportunity to dispose of the great pretender once and for all. The would-be leader of his people was dragged before the courts and, although acquitted, remained tainted by a cloud of suspicion placed there by insinuation.
The pretender, however, did not shrink away to his lair to lick his wounds. Instead, he mounted his chariot and headed to the country, where he began to nourish and rekindle the embers of his popular appeal. Denied his rightful place as leader, he sought to open up an alternative route to his destiny. Quickly, however, he came to realise that this would not be an easy task.
He was a man of relatively modest means, who had sacrificed his own capacity for significant self-enrichment by virtue of his vocation as leader of his people. However, help was at hand. A number of wealthy merchant princes, outraged by his treatment at the hands of mediocrities came to his aid, bestowing riches upon him so that he could be free to continue with his mission of self-rehabilitation.
Meanwhile, a nation which a short time earlier had appeared to be on the brink of prosperity, now, in the hands of the mediocrities, plunged into economic depression. The merchant princes, seeing their homeland going down the drain, dug deep once again. It was to take many years of the often indigestible hospitality of his people before he reclaimed his rightful place as leader of his people. The mediocrities fumed and spluttered, but to no avail.
But alas, our tale does not have a happy ending. The years spent cast out in the desert had hardened our hero's heart. No longer was he the warm, fun-loving rascal of old, but embittered by his experiences to the extent of being mistrustful of all but his most intimate allies.
Throughout the early years of his resumed leadership, he remained fearful of challengers, particularly of a number of individuals from far-flung regions, who spoke in impenetrable sing-song accents, and who he suspected of having been key players against him. In due course, he banished them from his presence and surrounded himself with men from a different province, whose hearts still burned with the spirit of revolution.
But his enemies did not rest. Instead, they plotted and conspired against him, frustrating his every attempt to consolidate his leadership and turn the fortunes of his people around once more. But then at last, he began to succeed. A little progress was made. Then, seeing their opportunity, his jealous rivals took advantage of an opportunity to return to his warm embrace.
For a while it looked as though a momentous reconciliation had been achieved. However, it very soon transpired that the mediocrities had simply taken advantage of his temporary weakness to undermine him from within. Soon they would banish him permanently.
Not content with this, they immediately set in place a number of inquisitions by which to finally destroy his image in the eyes of his people. These inquisitions inquired into everything which might even remotely offer up the prospect of finally discrediting the great pretender, but ignored everything else - including the manner in which the resources of the State had been marshalled against this one man - which might have thrown light upon his own motivations or those of the merchant princes who had supported him. By now, with the fortunes of the nation restored to rude good health, the great pretender was no longer necessary and could be disposed of.
But then, one day, history moved, as it always does, and the truth began to come tumbling out . . .
jwaters@irish-times.ie