When They Arrived - Short Story

Finding this story which is the last chronologically I realised that I have entirely lost another story which I wrote in 2005. It is ironic that I have stories going back over 20 years but two which have been produced in the last 5-6 years have gone. I blame this on moving between three computers and having one of them totally reconstructed recently. I might have been able to find this missing two stories just a couple of months ago, but now I fear they have gone for good.

Anyway, I do not know why I wrote this story. It may have come from re-watching 'The Men in Black' movies, but then if it did I feel guilty for putting that slant on what are serious aspects of contemporary politics and conflicts. I think I might have been envisaging some kind of analogy around the concept of 'alien invasion' not overly dissimilar to writers from outside Europe writing of voyages of discovery to modern-day Britain to remind many people that actually when the 'voyages of discovery' arrived in places in the 18th and 19th century, that those locations were of course already known by the local population who had no need of being discovered. On that basis this story looks at the concept of 'alien invasion' and 'alien induction' especially focusing on the US contribution given how much Americans talk about these things but do not reflect on whether they are sometimes the cause of them.



When They Arrived

I suppose we should have not been all that surprised that it was our village they picked. You always hear that they tend to go for remote areas and I guess that makes sense; you couldn’t land one of those things in the middle of a city.

I awoke to the sound of a child in one of the other houses screaming. Somehow it must have sensed what was coming before us adults truly heard it. In moments, though, its wail was blotted out by the sound of the engines and the so-very bright lights running up and down the streets as it came in to land.

On reflection, I guess the best thing would have been to run away or at least stay put in our house, but I imagine, when it comes to it, that’s not the behaviour of most humans. We have to be up and looking at whatever is occurring as closely as we possibly can. We are like the proverbial moths.  As I pulled a jacket on and slipped into my shoes, I remember thinking how apt that analogy was, given the piercing white lights that seemed to be filling the sky over the village. Outside, it was the wind which was more intrusive: denting the crops, sending flurries of dust and debris off in all directions.

My wife and my two sons were close behind me and we gathered, with many of our neighbours, at the edge of the village to see the large craft, vehicle, I don’t know what you would properly call it, anyway, it was coming down in the fields nearest the houses. It was an ugly thing, appearing, as it landed with a bump, like a huge distended caterpillar. Then they were scrabbling out from it, heading in what seemed to be random directions, but now I realise they were just trying to encircle the village before anyone could escape. The running figures were enough to send a few of the crowd scurrying back to their houses but most of us stayed where we were, as if truly entranced by what was happening. There was that crazy man, Adnan, who started, as he does to any given excuse, bellowing about how we need to arm ourselves. He rushed off perhaps to get one of his guns, though I doubted, even then, that they would have had much effect given they were probably half full of grit from wherever he kept them hidden.

Then they were amongst the houses, seeming so alien but resembling us all the same. We could make out some differences between individuals and they were each designated by that backwards writing they use.  Yet, for the moment the main impressions were that there were all tall and so very noisy, babbling away in terse, hard voices. The lead ones had faces concealed behind strange apparatus that gave them a cycloptic eye. The ones that followed looked more like us, but their faces were streaked with various dark shades like some tribal colours. They seemed to have no other volume bar loud and they appeared to equate noise with comprehension: the louder they were, the more they thought we would understand.

Those of us still at the village edge, held there by a strong mix of curiosity, fear and simple uncertainty as to what to do, now hugged the walls of the nearest houses, feeling that the less of an obstacle we made to the newcomers, the least each of us would suffer. Gradually the craft began to quieten as if they had killed the engines. I guess the fact that we had put up no hostile response, well little response at all except curiosity, meant they felt safe enough to bring it to a full halt. Though it was now quieter the village was still filled with noise and I looked back apprehensively as I realised they were going house-to-house. The cluster of us still at the end of the street had been surrounded by four or five of them. Though they stood there passively, almost bored even, the bulky squat guns clutched idly in their hands suggested what kind of reaction we would get if we tried to flee.

Then, of course, the old woman from two doors away started shrieking at them. She went up to the closest one, hammering him, I guess it was a him, they’re all pretty androgynous, anyway, she started pounding him on his chest and bellowing something about her sons. I doubt it did him any harm; they are heavily protected across that part of their bodies with armour, all in that mottled pattern they favour. The woman’s words were pretty much incomprehensible to me and I doubted the newcomers could make out anything from what she said. Fortunately they were confident enough in their strength not to see her as a threat and it was her daughter-in-law who finally made her way through to take her and pull her to the back of our group, out of the way; soothing her with soft words.

Now I began wondering what it was that they were looking for. They were not stopping in each house long enough to be looting, so I guessed it was a person, and someone specific, otherwise why not simply take the old woman? This was followed by another thought, one that made me grateful for having no daughters: maybe they were looking for only those of us suitable for breeding; perhaps this was not an invasion, simply some kind of pleasure jaunt. I pulled my wife close to me, making sure her headscarf was pulled tight to her hair and pressing her down with a heavy arm across her shoulders so she looked older than she is.

Looking back, I guess I should have been more afraid. After everything I know has gone on in recent decades, all the stories you are told, I probably should have expected to be shot dead right there by a high-tech weapon. I suppose it was that I was still half-asleep or maybe it was that the whole thing was so peculiar, so unlike anything that goes on in this village in an average week or even a pretty odd week: heavily-armed visitors dropping out of the sky for a raid.  How often do you see that?

Then it became clear that they had found what they were looking for. Of course, it was Adnan. They had him lifted off the ground, his hands bound behind him, his legs flailing and him shouting and screaming as if he was a bizarre kind of poultry being taken to be slaughtered. I knew it right then to be the truth that we would never see him again. Moments later I began to perceive him like some kind of tribute that we had to pay. Then I was grateful that it was no-one from our family or none of our friends. Since that night, however, I have worried whether next time they come back it will be for someone I do care about, and anyway, I know the village has lost something since Adnan was taken. He might have been a pain, but he was ours. In the quiet moments, I do cringe when I think about where he might be and what they are doing to him, you do hear such alarming things.

Whilst they were loading him aboard, still shouting and struggling, one of them came up to us. He took off his helmet and revealed a hairless, red-skinned head and face below, not that different from ours. He started explaining something about what was happening and why they wanted Adnan. He knew our language but had the strangest accent and got some words wrong. I guess it was not too bad given how far he had to have come. Then he seemed to think that what he said was enough, strapped his helmet back on and turned to leave. In a couple of minutes they were all streaming back like ants and then the engines were going again and it was all wind and dust and noise as it lifted off.

To be honest, we all stood around after that, half-deafened, dazed and certainly bewildered by what had happened. Then I saw my eldest coming back. With the concerns over my wife, I’d not seen him sneak off, but you can be sure I was glad he was returning unharmed. It was clear he had been playing the warrior, with a couple of his friends, seeing who could get closest to the intruders. I’m sure that I’d have done the same at their age, but you can be assured that I cursed him as strongly as my father would have done me. The funny thing is that he says that he got near enough to hear that they were playing that Bryan Adams track, you know, the one that the kids always had on their cassette player a couple of summers back. I suppose these days there are quite a few things that are common to everyone, no matter where they come from, though I doubt that wherever Bryan lives they fly down to pick up people in the middle of the night or perhaps they do, you tell me.

Prince Harry's Tour of Duty

Now before I launch into this post I must state a vested interest first, which is that I believe having a royal family is only a bad thing for the UK. They are expensive and the are part of the non-democratic political system that we have in this country. I do not see that happening to be the only available Protestant family in 1714 deemed fit enough to rule Britain qualifies you for being anything of use in 2008. That aside we come to more current issues. The British Royal Family have long had connections with the military. All of the mature members are colonels-in-chief of at least one regiment and they regularly visit naval and airforce units too. This is part of the military-nobility-Anglican clergy complex we have in the UK, because the Queen is also head of the Church of England and the senior noble in the country. Whilst monarchs have not led units to war for almost three hundred years, their children have seen action. One of the Queen's uncles died in an aircraft crash while in the RAF and her husband saw action in the Second World War; her second son, Prince Andrew was in the Falklands Conflict of 1982 where in fact given how badly things went for the British at some stages he could have been killed. One of her grandsons, second in line to the throne, Prince William was barred by the military from going to fight in Iraq as they apparently feared that he would make his unit a particular target, though given the regularity of death among British soldiers in Iraq they would still have faced a great risk with or without him. Now it turns out his younger brother, so third in line to the throne, Prince Harry had been serving for 10 weeks in Afghanistan but since the story broke was brought home.

Now there are so many things wrong with the whole incident. The first one is that the government gagged all British media to prevent it from reporting that the prince was serving in Afghanistan, naively believing that if the bulk of the British population did not know then somehow terrorists would not either; surely if they are as strong as we are told they have infiltrated every British newspaper, radio and television company. If al-Qaeda actually existed or were as sophisticated as the US government makes out, they would have known about Harry's destination before he left the UK let alone by the time he reached Afghanistan where Osama bin-Laden is supposed to be hiding and the Taleban that the British are fighting are supposed to be his ally. Anyone with minimal skill could get his picture from the internet and see him on patrol in Afghanistan. (Personally I think bin-Laden is tucked up safely in a nice discreet palace in Saudi Arabia protected by his wealthy family and friends). The gagging or probably more accurately, bribing as the media was promised exclusive coverage when he returned, was more about keeping it secret from the British public for fear of comment.

One reason why the British government does not want such attention is that they are receiving growing criticism. So, most of the British population accepted fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq, though many did not, but there was an expectation from all that the British Army was professional and had the latest equipment. Yet at inquest after inquest we find that British vehicles have insufficient armour, British military police lack bullet-proof vests, that British soldiers are sent into night battles lacking even basic night vision equipment. We are trying to police the world on the cheap. I expect Prince Harry got all the equipment he needed, but if his mother had married some different man than the Prince of Wales, he or his equivalent could quite easily be killed by a poorly armed local guerilla just like scores of other British men and women.

The second problem is why was he brought back? Either he is a soldier and should serve as all other soldiers do or he is not and he should be kept for ceremonial activities like his grandmother. He cannot be a proper soldier and yet not be a proper soldier. It seems clear that he relishes the normality of service, but at the end of the day he is very different to his comrades just because of the bed he was born in. What would happen if you or I had a son or a daughter in Iraq or Afghanistan and I decided that it was a bit too dangerous for them, could I simply have them sent home? No. I would have to leave them there to get killed and maimed while serving in an ill-equipped force acting with no clear objectives. I do not wish any ill-will to Prince Harry or anyone in the Armed Forces, but what difference do you think it would make to British policy if he was killed or injured? It is sickening that the fate of one man could swing things in a way that the death of hundreds of 'ordinary' people cannot.

What this whole debate seems to have been around is the fate of a single man. What it should be about is what light that discussion throws on British involvement in both Afghanistan and Iraq and why the British government feels it has the right to censor coverage of issues that are impacting on so many families both in Britain and the countries we have invaded.

Removing One 'Wrong' Does Not Automatically Put A 'Right' in its Place

It is always interesting listening to apologists of something who know that general consensus about what they are saying will be hostile so they wrap up their statements in conciliatory phrases especially if they are eating in your house at the time, but then with rather veiled statements proceed to make outrageous statements. In the UK it is not the done thing to say to them 'your views are entirely offensive stop', society requires you smile and admit they have a point. I would support this view, because I heartily support the view that whilst I may disagree with someone they have the right to express any views they choose and if I tried to prevent them then I would be behaving as badly as the views they outline. As noted in a recent post, some will see that as a weakness of the liberal humanist approach, but in fact in line with a comment I saw in a newspaper recently referring to the BNP (British National Party the main UK fascist party) 'given them enough string [i.e. not even rope] and they will hang themselves' as typically bigots show themselves up as stupid and hateful far better themselves that we could ever hope to do.

Now, in this context, I had a white former South African woman in my house last week. She is 28 so was born in 1980 when apartheid was in place but still only a teenager when it finally ended in 1994. Like people interested in the country she has seen the difficulties with crime, violence, poverty and AIDS that have plagued it since and she now argues that many Blacks in South Africa would prefer a return to the apartheid system because it at least had stability. To some degree that is a rather rosy view of the 'stability' of South Africa especially in the 1970s and 1980s with its economy suffering spiralling inflation and heavily armed police riding around beating and shooting people and internicine murders between different Black factions. It is clear that many Whites who grew up during the period were oblivious to the severity of events going on. They say the British had exaggerated information, but it is clear that having a free press we did not have to have exaggerated reports to see how bad the situation was. South Africa had no television broadcasts before 1977 to help keep people in ignorance and even then news was heavily censored. The one incident that they are most suprised to hear about the attack of the extreme AWB against the ANC conference in 1990 which almost triggered a civil war.

Apartheid South Africa was a society divided on racial grounds denying people access to areas and facilities such as schools and hopsitals based on their racial categorisation, something that had only otherwise been seen in Nazi Germany, hardly a good role model. The woman knew I had been in the Anti-Apartheid Movement in the UK in the late 1980s and early 1990s, which for liberals in the UK was almost assumed and I recognise now I could have been much more active than I was. Anyway, she said to me, had I been to South Africa and I said no (partly because flights there are beyond my income) but I also said because I knew how violent and crime-ridden the country was. She ridiculed me saying well, surely those were the people in control that I had campaigned to liberate. Of course that is a foolish statement but you can see why Whites in South Africa see a direct connection between the end of apartheid and the rise on social problems. This, however, is a very simplistic view and is similar to the difficulties in both Iraq and Afghanistan. It is right to campaign against dictatorships but you cannot assume that simply removing them will create peace and democracy; that is actually the harder job than removing the dictatorship and yet it is the one people pay least attention to.

The Anti-Apartheid Movement campaigned not to create a South Africa which was crime-ridden and violent, it aimed for a state which did not have a divisive social and political structure and gave the majority a voice but in the context of freedom for all people no matter what their ethnic background. It also gave people the freedom to be criminals and to be violent in a way that they have that freedom (and use it) in the UK, USA, France and so on. There are some points to note. Democracy does not suddenly manufacture a feasible economy. As in the USSR before its collapse, a distorted economy of the kind which is prevalent in Africa and was also in the Communist state is going to leave certain people in poverty to an even greater extent than they are in the democracies, because the authoritarian state can restrict their movement to find work and to protest against conditions in a way democracies cannot do. So in Russia and South Africa you still have the weak economy from before but people can take action to improve their situation and the easiest way is always to commit a crime. In addition creating democracy does not overnight erase social inequalities and whilst Blacks and Coloureds are now in a position to become prosperous in South Africa, the richest people there are still White as they were in previous decades. This will also take time to change and the Mugabe model in Zimbabwe has proven itself to be the wrong way to go about it.

Democracy itself (let alone a fair society and despite many Americans' views the two are not necessarily linked) takes a long time to establish. In the UK it took centuries and as yet we are still not a truly democratic state as half of our parliament is unelected. In France it took centuries and a bloody revolution. In Germany it took two world wars and the Nazi regime before enduring democracy was established. The USA had a colonial war, a vast civil war, rioting and unrest to even establish its current form of democracy, again taking centuries. So why does anyone think that democracy can really truly be established in South Africa, Russia (which had never even tried democracy before the 1990s), Iraq, Afghanistan in the space of a few years and peacefully, when the bulk of the lauded democracies had to go through decades and decades of bloodshed to get to often quite imperfect democracy now.

It is a human tragedy that when dictatorships end it takes so long to establish some degree of stability, even to reduce the 'normality' of violence to an extent when it becomes exceptional rather than taken for granted. However, this is no excuse to say, well as democracy is so violent and unstable in the first few decades then we should not bother and stick with authoritarian regimes instead. This is like saying a woman should not let the baby out of her womb simply because it is going to be a painful process often needing lots of input from doctors and nurses. When things change you need to look forward. No-one fights to help criminals prosper, they fight for all the ordinary people, the bulk of South Africans and Iraqis who simply want to be able to go work in the morning, feed their families, come home, eat and go to sleep; to not be stopped and checked all the time, not to be arrested with no cause, to disappear, to be tortured or shot. In addition, they would like to be able to shape the government in the direction which fits with their values (though most people are quite happy if it just leaves them alone) and to be able to protest freely when things upset them. These are the people that anyone opposing a dictatorship is campaigning for. Yet, everyone, especially governments must remember, that taking away the dictatorship is not the end of the process rather it is just the brief introduction to a process that will stretch over the following decades.