39. Defending Civilisation

Even though I was not quite sure exactly what my conversation with Hasiki had meant or revealed, I was nevertheless satisfied with my morning’s work. I felt that what he had said could be taken in a number of different ways and that, by representing it as accurately as I could, I would be allowing each reader to make up his or her own mind.

The next morning, therefore, I decided not to look for further explanation of what he had said, but to press on to new topics. I asked him whether any other factors had contributed to the way in which the war had been carried out. He thought a little and then replied.

“Minister Lomu certainly felt that the ruthless prosecution of the war was an essential part of defending the civilisation that the Village represented.”
“By that, I suppose he meant the safeguarding of the knowledge and technologies left to us by the Americans?”

“I can’t be certain of that.” Hasiki answered, “My own impression was that he saw the Village as being an expression of Our Granny’s Will, something that she had established and that was therefore to be protected. I doubt, somehow, that he saw any particular value in knowledge or technology.

Most of the Gardeners regard knowledge, apart from knowledge of Our Granny, as rather a waste of time or, at best, as frivolous and expendable. In their view, if the Tractor were to be taken away then Our Granny would provide something else.”

“Isn’t that alarmingly like the view of Hama Batu and his men that if they succeed in destroying the Tractor the Americans will return and restore the ancient ways?”
“Hama Batu also believes in Our Granny.” Hasiki countered. “A perverted and distorted vision of Our Granny that they call Granny Frum but in so far as they agree with the views of Our Granny’s Gardeners then I would have thought that they are not in error. Unless, of course, the Gardeners say that they are, in which case, clearly they are in error.”

“Surely that would not be possible, sir?” I ventured. “ How could the Gardeners say that Hama Batu is wrong to agree with them?”
“I agree, Tommu, that it seems improbable but you have to recognise that this area of what is right and what is wrong in relation to beliefs regarding Our Granny is an extraordinarily esoteric area and a speciality of the Gardeners. It would be wrong of us to apply normal logic to it.

It could be, for example, that Hama Batu in the completeness of his errors is so totally wrong that he is even wrong when he maintains something that would otherwise be right. Only a Gardener’s court would be able to make that judgement, so we need to leave it open.

We should not presume to apply our secular logic to the area ordained by Our Granny as within the purview of her Gardeners. Remember that Our Granny’s Truth is the source of truth and logic on our island. If there is a conflict between what appears to be truth or logic with Our Granny’s Truth, Our Granny’s Truth will always prevail.

Again, I must underline that what I am telling you is based on my own imperfect understanding, but I would interpret ‘civilisation’, as the word would be used by Minister Lomu, as being the ideal of order and discipline and obedience to Our Granny’s Truth. That is what we are fighting this war to uphold.”

“But then, if I understand you sir, you are telling me that the war has nothing to do with the defence of the Tractor and the knowledge that goes with it.” I shook my head, puzzled.

“No, Tommu, it is more subtle than that, I think. If I am right, then we defend the Tractor too. The Tractor, however, is just a tool that Our Granny has given to her people to provide them with a means to serve her more effectively. We defend it because it was She who gave it to us. The lucky fact that it provides a means of living in comfort, however is not the reason for defending it. The Tractor just happens to be what we defend today. If it were taken away and Our Granny were to give us something else instead – something of no use at all to us – we would have the same obligation to defend that other gift as we do today to defend the Tractor.

What we are actually defending is the way the people on the island have been organised by Our Granny. The Gardeners are closest to Her and custodians of Her Will, the Guardians and Readers support them and the rest of the population are to help and obey them. If that were to break down then, as Lomu has made clear many times, no one would know what they needed to do. There would be no production, there would be no food and there would be no gifts to maintain Our Granny’s House.”

“I can see, sir, that the defence of civilisation might require that we act to counter the attacks of Hama Batu and the Shadows.” I looked at Hasiki trying to assess whether I was taking his words correctly and continued, “What is not so clear is whether that also determines the way in which the war needs to be fought.”

“I suppose there is some sort of link,” he replied, “but I doubt that I could articulate it. What Lomu is very clear about is that, in the final analysis, it is Our Granny’s Will that it be fought in this particular way.

She has revealed this to Her Gardeners and that is sufficient reason. We who do not have direct contact with her cannot be permitted to question this. That would amount to Disrespect for Our Granny’s Will and Disrespect for Her Gardeners.

It was Her Will that we should cast the net of suspicion wide. Her Will determined the policy of Forceful Questioning and of tests of loyalty.
Our Granny commanded directly that we should attack the forces of Hama Batu wherever they were to be found. If we then had to abandon the plantations because we could not defend them, then that, too, is a result of Our Granny’s Will.”

“Withdraw from the plantations?” I looked at Hasiki in alarm. “I had heard rumours that things were not going well there but I had no idea that we had withdrawn from them. If we have withdrawn, how are the trees being looked after?”

“Ah, Tommu. You and your trees. The news there, I’m afraid, is bad. I have not been up to the plantations since I retired but from what I know, the trees have largely been left to their own devices. I know that the Shadows have destroyed some trees, more or less on principle, but I don’t think they have made more than a token effort in that direction.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.
“At the same time,” Hasiki went on, “there has been no weeding or fertilisation and certainly no harvesting of the nuts. It upsets me almost as much to think of this as it does you. Both of us spent good years of our lives planting those trees and one doesn’t like to imagine that work being lost.”

“But I assume that you were able to protect the trees before your retirement?” I said hopefully.
“I’m afraid that I wasn’t in a position to do very much.” Hasiki frowned, “In the immediate aftermath of the fire, Paitor explained to me that he had a more important task for me than my work in the plantations, so someone else would be up there while I dedicated myself to the administrative tasks that resulted from the destruction of the hangar.”

“What sort of tasks could have been more important than the defence of the Plantations?” I wondered.
“Stock taking, for instance.” Hasiki smiled ruefully, “We had lost a lot of stores and equipment. And payroll administration. Any number of tasks could be more important, it turned out.

But they meant that I was not in a position to interfere in the running of the war. And of course, if I had been able to give it, I now recognise that all of my advice would have been bad. Bambafama was following the instructions of the Minister of War and, therefore, Our Granny’s Will.”

“Bambafama?” I raised my eyebrows. “Did he have any experience of war? I thought he was a technical officer?”
“He may not have had much experience,” Hasiki answered, “But I’m sure that he quickly learned as much about warfare as he knew about technology.

In any case, I could do nothing much to help. I was sitting in an office, drowning in paper. Requests for stores and uniforms, purchase requisitions, commissary vouchers, payment authorisations: you would not believe the effort it takes behind the scenes to supply an army in the field. Believe me, fighting the enemy is much easier. And less painful.”

Hasiki paused. He seemed lost in thought, but at last he spoke.
“Do you remember Starling?” he asked, suddenly.
“Indeed,” I replied. “Who could ever forget him?”
“I couldn’t even help him.” He continued. “Bravest man I ever knew but not prepared to shut up. It appears that he decided to give Bambafama and Lomu a piece of his mind on one of their visits to the plantations.

You have to realise that, more or less single handed, he was successfully protecting a whole sector of the plantations. The village around the fort where he lived was still loyal and he was regularly capturing anyone of Hama Batu’s agents who tried to infiltrate the area.

I only heard about the affair long after it was over and Starling was dead, but it appears that he committed Disrespect for Our Granny and Disrespect for The Minister. He was, I’m told, grossly insubordinate to Captain Bambafama, and he killed two of the men who tried to arrest him. At his court-martial, I’m told, he repeated all the offences except the killing of the guards and he was executed publicly as an example to others.

I was down in the Village of course and it was more than a week before the news of what had happened reached me. That is what made me decide to apply for early retirement. There was no point in doing a job that I heartily disliked that was so far away from what was really happening that I could have no impact. I’m sure, if I had been there that I could have persuaded Starling not to say what he did.”

“So it was you who asked for retirement?”
“It was. But I think that I was knocking at an open door. It clearly didn’t suit the Minister to have a person with my history of mistakes and disagreements in a senior position on the force, even one that was quite out of the way.

You may know that I met him many years ago and our relationship was never an easy one – so he probably would have grasped at any opportunity to move me on. In the end, I was able to negotiate a reasonable exit and a good pension and here I am. My wife complains that I hang around the house and get under her feet but I convince myself that she doesn’t really mean it. I try to keep fit and I look after the garden and grow a few vegetables.

You should come round for a meal one day, Tommu. Bring your father. I would like to show you my grandchildren. There are three, you know. My eldest boy has a daughter and the two girls have a son each.”

The interview was at an end so I thanked the Captain and began to gather my material together.

“Who else do you intend talking to?” Hasiki asked, as he walked with me to the door.
“I hope to speak to Gardener Netto,” I answered and I’m in negotiations, through one of the Guardians at Our Granny’s for an interview with Manaku Jim.”
“Clever.” Hasiki said. “Netto is a clever man. And Jim will be good value if you can get to talk to him.