Once upon a time, there was a large valley
among the mountains in which lived several troops of baboons.
Now, this valley was large and the
topography was varied. Some parts of it had abundant water and trees laden with
fruit, while others were drier and had nice juicy locusts and beetle grubs, and
yet others, high on the slopes overlooking the valley, had herbs growing which
could cure most illnesses.
There was also a certain kind of nut which
grew in the valley. These nuts weren’t eaten by the baboons most of the time,
because they were hard-shelled, difficult to break, and not really very tasty
at all. But they kept excellently, and so the baboons stockpiled them for times
when the food supply ran low. These nuts grew more in some parts of the valley
than in others, and they grew in greatest profusion in those parts of the
valley which were most arid, desolate, and isolated – in fact, those that had
hardly anything else at all.
“We have nothing else but these nuts,” the
troops of baboons which lived in those areas said. “We have no fruit, or beetle
grubs, or even locusts here, which keep the other troops so well. But we have
the nuts, and they do not.”
“We should trade with the others for their
fruit and beetle grubs and locusts,” the baboons then said to each other. “That
way, we can have the best of what the others have, and they can have the nuts
that can keep them alive during times of trouble.”
And so the baboon troops began trading with
each other, and soon the nuts became the currency of exchange.
Now it so happened that among the baboon
troops there was one which, while not the largest, was peculiarly vicious and aggressive.
This particular troop, in fact, had occupied a prime part of the valley by
attacking and driving away the more peaceable troops that originally occupied the
spot; and though it had plenty of water and fruit, locusts and beetle larvae,
the troop was not satisfied.
“We must take as much of the fruit and
water, locusts and larvae, as we can from the other troops in the valley,” the
elders of the troop declared. “Our baboons deserve nothing less!”
“We are the greatest troop of all,” the
troop said. “Clearly the Great Baboon favoured us above all others, and we are
exalted in His eyes.”
“But,” some lesser baboons ventured, “we
have hardly any nuts growing here, so we have nothing to trade with.”
“That does not matter,” the elders declared
confidently. “We have stones aplenty in our territory. We will force the other
troops to accept these stones in lieu of nuts.”
“But what if the other troops do not agree
to accept stones instead of nuts?” the lesser baboons demanded.
“Why, we’ll promise to exchange them for
nuts at some time in the future,” the elders said. “And they can wait forever
and a day for the future to come, as far as we’re
concerned.”
“And if they should refuse to accept the
promise?” the lesser baboons countered.
“Are we not the strongest, meanest, most
vicious troop in the valley?” the elder baboons snapped. “Who dares stand against
us? Are you un-Troopian, and therefore you oppose what is best for our troop?
Do you oppose the will of the Great Baboon?” And they signalled, so that
cohorts of the most aggressive and savage of the baboons closed in around the
dissenters. “Well?”
Seeing no alternative but to acquiesce, the
lesser baboons gave in, except for a few holdouts, who were accordingly torn to
pieces. And the Troop of the Great Baboon went out to the others, and forced
them to accept stones in lieu of all their fruits, and larvae, and locusts.
Whenever any troop refused, or claimed that they did not have enough for their
own use to be able to spare any for themselves, the Troop of the Great Baboon
invaded their territory, massacred them, and took everything that it wanted,
scattering a few stones as payment. And the other troops shivered in fear when
they saw all this, and most of them gave in meekly.
One year it so happened that there was a
drought on the land, and the supply of food was growing short. The Troop of the
Great Baboon had no nuts growing in their own territory. Moreover, having long
since decided that they could go and take by force whatever they could not
exchange for stones, they had bothered to save no food at all. And they looked
around them and realised that they would have to acquire food from the other
troops, if they were not to cut down on the amount they had grown used to
consuming.
“It is clearly not intended by the Great
Baboon that we should starve,” the elders said. “Therefore it is not just our
right but our duty to take from other lesser troops what we need.”
But the other troops themselves had little
left over, and they refused to accept payment in the form of stones; so the
Troop of the Great Baboon attacked their lands, expecting that they would give
up like always before. But the lesser baboons knew that it was a question of
their very survival, so they fought like they had never fought before. And the
Troop of the Great Baboon was forced to spend more and more blood on fighting,
and got nothing at all in return.
Now among the Troop of the Great Baboon
there were two cliques, which distinguished themselves from each other by
staining their muzzles with the juice of berries; one group stained itself
blue, and the other red. Both these cliques squabbled much among themselves,
loudly and angrily, as a matter of course, and each claimed to have the special
favour and divine sanction of the Great Baboon himself.
Every few years these troops would gather
to select from among themselves an Elder of Elders, who would rule over them.
Each clique would choose one from among themselves, and all the baboons would
throw sticks into a circle, which would then be counted. The clique which
managed to throw more sticks into the centre of the circle would get to have
its chosen baboon become the Elder of Elders. And then they would go right back
to living, and squabbling, as usual, until next time.
Now this time the food situation, owing to
the failed battles, was getting serious, so the two cliques began screaming
even louder than usual to lay their claims to the position of Elder of Elders.
“If I win,” the candidate from the Blue
clique, who was already one of the troop’s most vicious enforcers, declared, “I
will send even more baboons to attack even more troops – and all the food they
capture, I’ll make sure to distribute among the troop members. Well, of course,”
she added hastily, “some will get more than others, but that’s how the world
is.”
“I’ll end all the wars,” the other
candidate, from the Red clique, declared, “and bring the baboons home. Of
course, we’ll have less food that way, so everyone will have to eat a little
less. Of course,” he added as hastily, “ that doesn’t apply to the elders, who
need all the food they can get to have the energy to lead our Troop.”
“He’s right,” the Red clique yelled. “No,
she’s right!” shrieked the Blue clique.
And the baboons gathered to select the
Elder of Elders at the circle. They gathered, and as the time of the casting of
the sticks grew nearer they began squabbling more and more, and then they began
to bite and scratch and wrestle each other.
“Which of them has won?” they demanded,
after throwing their sticks into the circle at last. “Ours, who is the Anointed
of the Great Baboon...or theirs, who isn’t?”
The baboons whose task it was to count the
sticks picked them up, and looked at them, silent.
“Well?” the cliques demanded. “Which is it?”
The baboons just stared at the gathered cliques.
“What difference does it make?” one asked at last.
And the gathered baboons looked at each
other, at the juice which had rubbed off and mingled during their fighting, so
that red and blue were mixed and matched to a uniform purple. They looked at
each other, and then at the two candidates.
And already it was impossible to say which
was which.
