A Fable for our Times

This is my own recollection of (and re-working of) a James Thurber story called "The Owl who was God". I first encountered it in my first year of University. It applies, I would have thought, to politicians and leaders of every age, ilk and kind. But in South Africa, I think it applies particularly, at a time like this and I offer it to our new batch of Ministers and officials, as I did to those which preceeded them.

Once upon a time, all the animals of the forest gathered together to elect a leader for themselves. They were all in a very excited state and the forest resounded with the cries and twitterings of animals and birds engaged in very important business.

“Ahem!” said the Secretary Bird, in a very important sort of way, “Shall we begin?”

The animals all agreed that they should, and the Giraffe, being the tallest, began to make something of a speech, saying how glad he was to be there and how important an occasion it was and how grateful they all were to the Secretary Bird for being willing to be both Chairbird and Secretary Bird at the same time. And although the Secretary Bird would have liked this accolade to have gone on a little longer, business really was pressing.

“Well”, said the Secretary Bird, “any proposals?” There was a very definite silence in the forest. Then a buzzing noise from one of the Bees. And then silence again. In fact quite an embarrassing silence.

“Er, excuse me”,said the Fox.

“By all means!” said the Secretary Bird, a little suspiciously. “I propose the Owl”, said the Fox.

Well, with that, all the animals of the forest went into a bit of a tizwoz.

“The Owl!” one and all were heard to cry, “Why on earth the Owl?”

“Because”, said the Fox, restoring a little order, “Because he can see in the dark and answer any question.”

The animals thought about this for a while.

“We would need to put this to the test, said a Lizard, “But I’ll second the proposal”.

That done, all the animals of the forest gathered around the largest Oak tree where the Owl was standing above them with large glowing eyes.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” asked the Secretary Bird.

“Twoo” said the Owl.

“Why does a lover call on his love?” asked the Secretary Bird.

“To Woo” replied the Owl.

“What is the name of a very famous Anglican Archbishop?”

“Too Too” said the Owl.

“What is another word for ‘that is to say’ or ‘namely’?” asked the Secretary Bird.

“To wit” replied the Owl.

The animals were most impressed. It was very dark and quite impossible to see at any distance, but the Owl really did seem as though he could see in the dark and answer any questions put to him.

“Can he see in the daytime too?” asked a timid little Dove.

The animals all laughed at this ridiculous suggestion and brushed it aside with the contempt it deserved. “Of course he can see in the daytime!” bellowed the Elephant.

“Of course he can!” shouted all the other animals.

The next day, all the animals were marching behind their newly elected leader. The Owl, puffed up with great importance, stared around him with large, unseeing eyes.

“To wit” he said periodically.

“To woo!” came the enthusiastic response.

The Owl began to start up the highway. When he bumped into things, the animals all bumped into them too. Everyone was happy. How clever of them to have elected a leader who could see in the dark and answer any questions. Indeed, without any doubt, the Owl was the wisest and most experienced and … Oh! They couldn’t find enough words to describe his virtues!

As the animals were walking up the highway, and bumping into things the Owl bumped into, a Hawk flew over their heads shrieking loudly.

“There’s danger ahead. Something is coming along fast!”

“To wit?” asked the Owl.

“It’s a truck travelling at 160kms an hour and you are all in its way!”

“Whoo?” asked the Owl, seeing nothing.

And the truck came along and ran over all of the animals and they lay in the road, quite, quite dead.

MORAL: If you can’t see in the daytime, or heed the voice of foresight, don’t lead people up the Highway.

The Arrogant Mayor - Another Fable for Adults

This is a story, the substance of which I heard many years ago. I have retold it to fit the South African context, but, obviously, its a "one-size-fits-all" type of story. I published it originally in 2001, in the height of the Mbeki Presidency - He obviously paid no heed to it!

Once upon a time, in a distant land, there lived a very arrogant man. This man, through deeds hidden and some revealed, became the Mayor of the town in which he lived. Initially, everyone was very happy. He seemed a very good replacement for the previous Mayor whom everyone, even his enemies, had loved. All the new Mayor needed to do was to step into the old mans shoes and carry on doing the good things he had done. But, as I said, this new Mayor was an arrogant and hard headed man, unsure of himself and the power he held.

In order to ensure that things stayed the way he wanted them, this man collected around him a band of sycophants and toadies who did everything he wanted them to do. Mostly, he ran things his own way, never listening to criticism and never heeding common sense. When he did want advice, he would turn to this hand picked band of brown-nosers and yes-men (though there were also a few women) who, in fear of their positions, gave him the most incredible and idiotic advice possible, on how to run things. Even more incredibly, the Mayor acted on the advice they gave him and when it became clear that they were all terribly wrong, he stuck to his positions so firmly that to oppose him was declared a heresy. In fact, opposing the Mayor on anything at all became a criminal offence in that town. But worse, speaking the truth about him became punishable by banishment - a fate which many good men and women of that town were to suffer.

Conditions in the town became intolerable. The people in that once happy city became fearful and scared to speak their minds. They got tired of listening to long-winded, boring speeches full of quotations taken from books full of the same. They became wary of what they wrote and what they spoke, so they did less and less of both. As conditions in the town got worse and worse, the people got angrier and angrier. And they liked the Mayor less and less. And they cared less and less for the things he stood for - both the good things and the bad. They longed for the time when they had a mature, wise and fearless leader who didn't shirk any of the real issues, but because of the fact that he was a great man, full of humanity and compassion, dealt firmly and justly with the townsfolk, preferring rather to help people up rather than to tear them down.

Now, the new Mayor might have been arrogant, but he wasn't a fool. He started to see what was happening. How, because of him and his arrogance, all the things he loved the most were slowly dissolving in a slough of anger and resentment. A slough very much of his own making. One day, as the Mayor was taking his bath, he chanced to look at himself in the mirror and he was shocked by what he saw. He saw a man twisted by his own need to be right. He saw a man who didn't listen to the very people he claimed to serve. He saw a man who once was honoured for his wisdom but was now only feared for his power.

The Mayor was deeply disturbed by what he saw. He spent a long time before the mirror, pulling his face this way and that, trying to get the look of a real statesman, of a man quietly confident of his position because he knew that he reflected his subjects wishes and needs and desires. But it was impossible. All that looked back at him was the hard face of stubborn stupidity. And he hated it. He vowed it would not continue. That very day, much to the surprise of his subjects and the host of sycophants around him, he resigned his position, saying he wanted to retire to the country. And from that moment he disappeared.

There was great rejoicing in the town. There was dancing in the streets and parties late into the night. Nobody wondered what had become of the man, because nobody cared.

The man went to a magician he knew who could make the most extraordinary masks. He asked him to make him the mask of a man who cared for and listened to what others had to say. He asked him to make him look kindly and sympathetic. He asked him to make him a face that others would entrust themselves to - that others would respect and love.

The magician worked day and night and eventually he produced this amazing mask, which he placed on the mans head. The man was very pleased with it. Nervously, he went back into the town where he was once the town's most hated and unpopular Mayor. To his astonishment, nobody recognised him in the town, so different did he look. He was amazed by the ease in which people related to him. He found, that instead of hostility and mistrust, as was the case before, people were able to embrace him and open their hearts to him. And so he lived happily amongst the people with his new mask on his face. He found that all sorts of things started changing. He found he could tell jokes and people laughed because they found them funny, not because they wanted to humour him. He found that people respected his views and wanted to debate them with him. He found, as the weeks and months and years went by, that he was becoming more and more popular and more and more respected and adored.

And so it was that the time came for the election of a new Mayor and, lo and behold, the people of the town wanted to elect him to the position! He said no, but the people all said yes! And before he could object further, he found himself elected to the same office he had vacated in such a cloud of resentment and scorn a few years previously.

Nervously, he took to the podium in the town square to make his acceptance speech. He paused and looked at the people all around him. People who loved and adored him. People who wanted to be led by him, who honoured and respected him. And as he looked at the crowd, his eye fell upon a young woman in her early twenties who was staring at him very seriously. With a start, he recognised her as someone he had banished for speaking against him when he was the Mayor before. She was staring intently at him as if she saw beneath the mask. He started to squirm. She jumped up on the podium. "I know this man!" she shouted. "I know this man all too well!" "He is that arrogant scoundrel that we thought we were rid of some years ago". And with that she reached towards his face and pulled the mask off his head.

And what do you think happened? What the good townsfolk saw was, that the face of the man underneath the mask was the same as the face on the mask.

The moral of the story is really quite simple and it applies to Presidents, Mayors, men and women, black and white. If you want to do good, be good. It is really the only way.