The Empire Wins - 1

I write the first of my series of short essays, highlighting in each of them the ways the people of this earth have given over their lives to big businesses - which collectively make up what I call "the Empire". It is important to bear in mind that this Empire has no allegiance to any nation, race, community or religion. It has come to power and plans to be in power for the sole purpose of getting wealty, or if already wealthy, then even wealthier. You will therefore realise that when it comes to wealth, there is nothing like "enough" for those who are a part of this. The unspoken code being, "make as much as you can". If you are a victim to this empire's power and policies, you would already know much of what I am going to write in the following essays.

I would be incomplete in my job if I don't express my reasons to be pessimistic about overthrowing this empire. That will have a lot to do with the distinctions this empire shares with the empires humankind has known, the Romans, the Ottoman empire, the British, post war East Europe, to name a few. For the moment, I write of the first of the victories that this empire had, fought in the heart of villages and towns of 1600's England, what has been fashionably called, or I daresay hailed, as the Industrial Revolution. It's a victory that laid the foundation to much of the mayhem we have in the world today, harmless and well - intentioned though it may sound. It told those big businesses in England that the people can be defeated. But what was that victory?

Privatisation of means of production :

In truth, small amounts of privatisation always existed all over the world. I myself have heard of small groups of people in my country many years back (compare them to small business partnerships) who were given charge of small plots of land, with the status of ownership, and whose job it was to farm and sell the produce at a premium. But privatisation as it started in late 1600's England was different in three vital ways. One, the holdings were large, whatever the means of production was; that meant that these small groups could now control larger parts of the industry. Secondly, and more importantly, such groups found themselves out of the boundaries of the legal system which were in place for ordinary members of the public. And thirdly, ownership of either textile or steel had now nothing to do with either one's location or proximity of residence with respect to the holding. A man in Bristol could jolly well be the owner of minefields far north in Newcastle. Put the three factors together, and you will see the danger they posed to the living conditions of the working English public.

However, dangerous though these new terms were, they would have been impotent had it not been for one important way that was to become the signature of most modern day businesses that make our empire up, since then. Having representatives in the government. It is this factor, that was in turn responsible for these private businesses finding themselves out of the reach of the law, that made them so difficult for the public to fight against. But there were protests, as you would expect. Why should a farmer who has been living on his farm for generations love to see it go to some other man, just because he could make a higher bid for it according to his means? Vasts protests were seen all across the country; not just by those who worked in businesses, but even from many small businessmen themselves, who suddenly found themselves stripped off their means of livelyhoods.

I am particularly hitting out against the naive and modern view according to which the rise of capitalism was "natural and inevitable". As you can see, there was nothing natural in a whole nation falling prey to small groups who could now control their lives. No farmer naturally gives his land over to someone else. Capitalism as an economic system was entirely artificial and deliberate. The laws that allow such small group holding of means of production had to be passed so as to meet the interests of those it seeked, and the military strength of the nation had to be called for when the public rose in protests against this life-takeover. Rather, it is not capitalism, but the resentment and dissatisfaction about it that ought to be natural and inevitable, unless the whole nation lost it's head. I will dwell later to what made this particular fallacy about capitalism so popular.

Thus, the first battle against the people was won. It was not new in a way that Mr.Y had to work for Mr.X in order to live, that was happening anyway. But now, Mr. X was exempt of laws and regulations, albeit informal and mutual, that regulated his business. He could make Mr.Y work for hours unlike what it used to be. With a few people in control of even the essentials of a nation, Mr.Y did not fancy his chances anymore of finding another employer in case he was unhappy with his employer, Mr. X. Mr. Y, for whatever he was paid, was effectively a slave of his owner.

I admit I might have inadvertently given you the impression that things got real bad real quick. The takeover was gradual and for a long time, given on the resistance the business groups faced, certain parts of the industry took centuries to be brought under their ownership! Take the privatisation of the mines in the mid 70's for example. What I did intend to do in the previous paragraphs was to spell out the ways things did turn out to be, no matter the length of time. It tells us what the privatisation of businesses meant for the people as a whole, or might mean someday if you can name for me some industry which as as of yet untouched and under public control. And why was privatisation, along with the tradition of having private representatives high up in the politics, meant the first and in many ways the deciding victory for the empire.

Been a while

Boy Krazy - That's What Love Can Do

I still remember dancing to this song in front of my mum back in '93. Since then, I did get the audio of this song but never saw their video again. Thanks YouTube.

Selective Capitalism and Reality

I had written this a few months back in response to a video linking martial law, conspiracy theories and 9/11. Let me know what you think.


Not that bad and complex :

I will try and put forward what I believe America is heading for in the coming years. My observations are not as bad as the reporter up there in the video, though not very far from that also.

We have to understand what america is ultimately. America is a nation that is built on the model of selective capitalism. I use the term selective because you do not find jungle capitalism in the USA as you do in some nations of east europe today. But what is selective capitalism? It is using the principles of capitalism, meaning a detatchment of the government when it comes to economic policies of the state, only when it suits the interests of a few people. Note, the government will of course step in when the interests of the minority is harmed, so it is not a free or pure capitalism. Also, the government will fund, subsidize and help those lucky businessmen whom it represents. That is very uncapitalistic, as we all know. So america is about allowing capitalism when it serves the interests of the rich, and not allowing capitalism if their interests are harmed. If you follow that, everything, and I mean, everything in the USA is only a follow up on that. Just keep the track of money in mind, see where it goes, and you can predict where america and her policies will.

But then you see, it is not only enough to want to make profits, one also has to be able to go and make them. Profits, most if not all businessmen know and I mean excessive profits of the kind made in America today, need two things basically. One, to keep the people unaware that those profits are made, at the people's expense. Hence, you have racism, war on christmas, women rights, abortion, etc meant to deviate the american public's mind from the real issue that matters, money. Also they help in keeping the public divided, issues like racism and gay bashing. So the aim again : " Keep the public involved in other issues and preferably also divide the public. Resistance can be curbed thus"

The second aim of the business class in the USA is to have a stable society, for all businessmen know that stability is a must for business. Haven't we all seen how local businesses are affected during times of floods and famines? The fascism we see above is for a stable society, one that can be controlled against those elements who can instill instability. Nothing ominous or complex about it. If I am robbing you in a certain system, then I would like that system to remain so that I can keep up with my robbery. Yes, if you start finding out and create mayhem, sure I have to take care of you and bring you and that system back, for my own sake.

Believe me at it's root, it is that simple.

A glance at our lives will tell us that we are a little better than slaves. We are working harder and harder for the same standards of living. That can only mean, using some basic math, that more and more of what we make go into the hands of our employers, the business class. And they are in a monopoly for there aren't many like them. Meaning, we cannot complain; if we do, then we will most likely get fired and end up jobless. We all know how easy it is for the businessman to replace a worker. And how hard it is for the worker to find another job, i.e. replace the businessman. That's capitalistic monopoly.

About 9/11 :

Many americans do not know that the administration has not only been robbing the citizens, it has also been robbing other people in faraway lands, for profits of course. Those people did not realise also, and have therefore elected governments that allowed the american government to do that. Today they are realizing, and fighting the US administration and american people back. 9/11 was a result of those people fighting the US back, it was no conspiracy. Those attacks were inevitable; we cannot expect the outside world to be robbed by those we elect. And the way that nation has responded to that event only means that more of those will follow. It is not about any government cover up, it was a classic terror act, asking the people to wake up and stop what their administration has been doing. If you do not want those attacks again, then I believe you indeed should be waking up. Take your country back from the administration and the businessmen it represents, and give it back to the people. You are the people, the ball is in your goal.

Fighting Back

The Spanish were prompt nevertheless to realize the reason the attacks happened. As we all know, they came onto the path of justice and pulled their troops back from Iraq. They realised something white people rarely do : "What's present in another nation belongs to the people who live there, not to you".

If you are a white reading this, I understand your near total disagreement. So send your troops to our lands to steal what is ours. And we will send ours to your lands and do you the justice that you deserve anyway.

"The Government, not Me"

Left wingers living in the western world can often be heard singing the above quote, when questions of terrorist attacks on their soil come up. In chorus they declare, "my government, not me". Meaning, those attacks against our people were wrong, they were...innocent people who lost their lives. The quote is often sung in response to the crimes that they commit in the rest of the world, which they conveniently blame upon their governments. As if the government is some group of aliens fresh from Mars, here on earth on a 5 year vacation.

"No, the government is you", ought to be the response. You are the government, by definition. If that government is doing anything, good or bad, you are. For without your sanction, the government you conveniently heap the blame upon, would not have been able to. It is not the Nazis who attacked Poland, the Germans did. It is not President Bush who attacked Iraq, the americans have. And that is true for all nations.

It is time their people stopped looking those who lost their lives or their legs on 9/11 as innocent. They were not. They have committed crimes in the Middle East, as indeed in several other parts of the world.

"Not them, their government". Let's put a stop to that.

Blood

I dreamt, not long ago, of being in Iraq, living with those who want to rescue their land and their natural resources from being stolen by the US army. No amount of words could be enough for their valiance and honour. They told me in that dream that it is not immoral to fight in order to live, and to live one has got to need the resources that Mother Nature has provided for each one of us. Let America and the White World call them whatever they want; each one of them has not only the bravery but also the humanity of more than a hundred white folks put together. I know, for I have lived with them.

This poem is not ultimately for them, not for the Dark Man either, but for the earth. And for earth's victory one day, against those animals in white skin, claiming to be superior humans.


He wrapped the cloth just under his eyes, strapped on his polished belt,
He looked across at his friends and folks, his eyes saying how he felt,
He would be gone for days, or weeks or months; he might even be gone for good,
It was a hard moment for those dear to him, even though they all understood.

He gave me a gentle pat on my shoulder, as if to say "let's go",
Picked up his gun and his satchel bag, leaving back the albums though,
He never looked back at his people again, the goodbye was already said,
He murmured : "The nation is mine, so the duty is mine, to protect her from those who invade".

He said this line each time he went, to a war that could leave him dead,
"The nation is mine, so the duty is mine, to protect her from those who invade,
Come ye white man from some land unknown, let me see you brandish your sword and gun,
We'll keep fighting you, upon our word, till we breathe under this sun".

I have been with the Resistance for a full month now, I have known them in and out,
They are humans like us, they sleep like we do, they read, they laugh and they shout,
They are united as one, upon seeing what's happening, to their nation they so dearly love,
"Invaders", they say, "are a pack of wolves; but the Resistance comes straight from Above".

"The white wolves always found our nation attractive, we know after what he is,
If they tell you how proud they are, remember, it is for theft and loot like this,
Funny me", and he laughed, "I thought plunder and loot should mean shame,
Or is it that they were good folks once, Brother, and then something happened, and thus they became?"

You could see the innocence of the way he spoke, it reflects the innocence he was made of,
Despite the wars, or the trouble at their homes, despite all the goings that got rough,
They were all young men, each one of them, they ought to be in some college or school,
Which could have happened, but was not to be, courtesy - the invading white wolf.

"I agree we are terrorists Brother", he said, "but it's important we maintain this state of fear,
Robbery and loot demands a system of peace, stability is always very dear,
Control and security is why they want a government in Iraq, a safe passage through which the loot will go,
One we cannot allow and is why we create this mess; and trust me, it's something they very well know."

"Why fear a civil war Brother they do? Why this sudden love for those not of their kind?
A civil war will mean we will only kill ourselves, it's only our own blood we shall be leaving behind,
But such a war will mean unrest, will deny the safe passage their goods seek,
And that's their concern but not our lives at all, is why they fear a civil war more than do we."

"I wonder why they make us look like bandits, on their TV's, radios, papers and even in their shops,
If their public knew the good men we are, would it have meant that this plunder would stop?
Why then take the pains to tell those lies, when their public couldn't really care less?
For as long a white man lives, whether he is a ruler or a serf, Mother Earth will remain in mess."

He suddenly stopped the car and got out, ran quickly against a small roadside cliff,
Peeped a little through the edge on the left, with his body held against very stiff,
But as lithe as a cat did he then zipped open his bag, took out something I could not well see,
Three explosions ripped through that still countryside noon, almost deafening me.

"I ripped open their hearts", he said, "those bodies for days shall burn,
They acted as informers for the invading wolves, helping the loot with plenty in return,
So far so good, glad this was easy", I could note that this wasn't always the case,
He started the car and we were back on track, on our way to another meeting place.

I looked at him as he drove the car, with his left hand resting on his hips,
He saw me looking through the corner of his eye, and a little smile broke across his lips,
A month was how long our brotherhood had been, and I admired what I had learnt and knew,
That any man with a heart of honour, would be a part of the Resistance too.

Red

The slave reached down quickly to hold the plough, lest it fell onto the soil again,
The sharp edge of wood cut through his wrist, as he stifled a cry of pain,
The sun was hot, it was summer time there, and the plough was a heavy log of wood,
Yet hard though it was, he could not drop it down; an order he had long understood.

At one end of the field his master stood, his hands loose on his hips,
He was all in white from his head to toe, with a little smile across his lips,
It amused him always, as it did so now, seeing his slave not letting him know,
Pain or laughter it was all the same, a weakness, one could not show.

He could hear his father sing when he was a little boy, a song he seemed to love,
"The poor are meant to serve us folks, it's why they are sent from above,
They are lazy, stupid and useless, and note, will never hang their heads in shame,
Pain or laughter, it is all the same, a privilege, that does not become of them."

Thinking of that song he wasn't smiling anymore, he could see his father was not right,
He could see his slave Ramesh still in pains, though he held on with all his might,
He had been Ramesh's friend years back; stupid? He was far from that,
He worked hard with his books, was good with his brains, leaving the whole class a long way back.

Had it not been for the poor father he had, he could have gone a long way,
Might have gone to the cities and prospered, might have invited him over lunch someday,
Could even have made a name for himself, that boy, if only there was someone to pay,
He was eager to do that himself, his rich friend Nikhil, but his father came in their way.

"Stop shaming me my good son", he said, "and stop spoiling your useless friend,
Stop dreaming things they themselves never dream of, that money you shall not lend,
Let him be what he was born to be, our grass will suit his feet quite well,
Their service to us will do them good, might redeem their souls from hell".

"And please", he stopped short, "stop calling him by his name,
One who serves is as good as another, they are really all the same,
Have you seen how they reproduce at a rat-like pace, making villages where there was none before?
Why? If those rats started naming their kids, one couldn't separate them from us anymore.

He couldn't laugh as his dad had done, for he saw that his father for once was right,
There was really very little to separate him from Ramesh, except for the latter's despair and plight,
If anything there was plenty to separate Ramesh from him, there were plenty in him he could tell,
He was brighter and smarter, stronger and eager, facts they both knew very well.

He found it hard to see who could be more useless, himself or his poor slave,
Much of the village was owned by his father, the little he had was what he gave,
Not that his father was more useful either, he got those from the men who had come before,
He drank, slept, ate and talked; is that being useful more?

He wanted to talk to Ramesh that evening, it was years since they talked,
He sneaked from his house as soon as could, across the mud and earth he walked,
The villagers talked, they always did, "with whom is master angry tonight?"
But he walked on, through the mud and soil, knew that his way was right.

He called out "Ramesh" as he neared his house, could make it covered on top with hay,
He sat in front of him with his head held down, hardly knowing what should he say,
He felt his hand on his shoulder, and looked up, his eyes looked into his,
Master and slave, living worlds apart, and yet it had come to this.