A BITE OF HISTORY

Not so much a story, more a look at our world and what might happen unless we pay a bit of attention to history.

Back at the beginning of the twentieth century Europe was a divided affair, and I suppose that in the twenty-first century it still is. Back then, though, there were deals between nations that meant if one country became embroiled in military difficulties there was always a group of allies to lend a hand. It had been like that for ages and nobody could see what that arrangement of loose liaisons might lead to. But set a ball rolling….

Then, on 28 June 1914 a single shot rang out in Sarajevo, and a crown prince lay dead.

It was terrorism, of course, this time a Serbian terrorist organisation that rejoiced in the nomenclature of the Black Hand.

And after over four years of ball-rolling there was a roll-call of around sixteen million dead.

All because of a terrorist assassination.

Things would seem bad enough, but that wasn’t the end of the story. Oh no!

Germany was blamed for that dreadful war and had to pay for it, and the reparations demanded of a weakened nations gave birth to the rise of the dictators, and among them one Adolf Hitler who wrote that strong and stable leadership could achieve just about anything, poor as his people were.

Eighty million or so deaths later (both military and civilian) he was dead too.

There are some (myself amongst them, though I’m no historian) who believe that the two world wars were really parts one and two of the same conflict. All those weeping mothers, distressed daughters, agonised wives, rotting corpses, because a single shot rang out in Sarajevo.

When the guns were finally silenced it was obvious this just could not happen again. It must not be allowed. By then we lived in a nuclear age and besides enormous bangs there was the dreadful after-effects of radiation to think about. No, it must not be allowed to happen again.

And it had all started in Europe. And not just Germany but a Europe divided into so many arguing clans that something had to happen to draw them back together.

So after a great deal of heart-searching a solution was found. The secret would be trade. Trade can always hold folk together because it represents wealth and wealth is a mighty powerful glue.

Along came the Common Market. To start with my own little island wasn’t wanted, but eventually we entered it and Europe was no longer completely divided.

But all matters in the affairs of man must change. It’s part of progress, of evolution, of humanity. Change. And that needn’t be bad. So the European club, the common market, slowly morphed into the European Union, and peace reigned on.

But once or twice in those affairs there arises a would-be dictator and those self-serving creatures know that to appeal to something primeval in the masses will give him or her strength beyond their worth. Call it nationalism, call it fascism, call it what you will, it’s always the same.

Last year one such came to his finest hour, told a fistful of lies to the masses who knew he was lying but believed him anyway, and although he received no personal power because he lacked the charisma of a Hitler he started the divisions of a peaceful Europe.

History teaches us that a divided Europe leads to war. Gone are the days of the bowmen and archers of ancient kings and even the rattling guns of the Somme. Now we have the biggest bangs available as well as glowing clouds of death, and I fear that in the future a new regime of dictators may reach for them.

No names, no pack-drill, but everyone knows who I might mean.

I’m well into my seventies and unlikely to be too severely hurt by the future. But I have children and grandchildren who I love dearly, and they might.

We should be a little better than the bull-headed hoodlums who clamour for a past that never was and think one word.

Consequences.

Yes, consequences.

© Peter Rogerson 11.05.17