Читать книгу Dado Island. The Superstitious Democracy - Саша Кругосветов - Страница 5

The ship was approaching Dado Island. The sailors asked Alexander, who had been there before, what it was that made this country and this island so interesting.

‘You know, my friends, how complicated the relations between animals are in a pride of lions, a pack of wolves, a herd of antelopes or zebras, a flock of birds. We are sincerely delighted when we see the perfect organisation of societies of ants, termites, and bees. There are also cases of different species working together successfully: the shark allows the pilot fish to feed on the leftovers from its table, the Galapagos tortoise waits for a finch to cleanse it from parasites, and the sea lion doesn’t object to the lava lizard catching the flies sitting on its back.

But can you think of a single example where animals would jointly solve the problems affecting them in a territory they share? For example, how to defend themselves against common enemies or an attack of dangerous insects? How to preserve the steppes and forests that provide them with food and shelter? How fairly to distribute plots of arable land so as to avoid conflict or reduce it to a minimum? How wisely to limit the excessive appetite of predatory animals and insects? I imagine that you don’t know any such examples.

But here, on the island of Maidan, you will encounter exactly such an unusual world. Because of the island’s complete isolation, the evolution of plants and animals slowed down. However, something else happened instead, and it turned out that the long period of isolation had not been in vain. Instead of the species themselves, what evolved were the social relations between the islanders. Over the course of many millennia of enforced joint residence, the organisation of the animal society improved, underwent a gradual progress and ultimately reached unprecedented heights. This animal country now has an administration like France or England – a parliament which is elected by all the inhabitants of this unusual island, who enjoy equal rights. Anybody can vote, and anybody can be elected. Anybody, from the biggest crocodile down to the smallest midge or mosquito. That is the principle of this animal democracy, which is millions of years old already. People could learn a lot from the animals on this island, if only they wanted’, Captain Alexander concluded his story.

‘But we don’t want to learn anything. We will just follow the well-trodden path on Maidan, and stubbornly repeat the mistakes made by others.’

‘Well exactly! I don’t understand what one should learn here,’ proclaimed the Boatswain, ‘we know these rotten democracies in France and England. What can they do in the end, these much-vaunted parliaments? Nothing but waffle![3] Society ought to be organised in the same way as we here on the ship: all decisions are taken by our Captain Alexander, and above him there is only the Tsar!’

‘Don’t get excited, Boatswain,’ replied the Navigator, ‘that which works well on an ocean-going vessel isn’t very suitable for running a huge island. And on top of that we are guests in this country. When in Rome, do as the Romans do!’

Captain Alexander knew Maidan well. He had a friend here, a large, plump, short-tailed lemur called Indri. He was a charming fellow who liked to wear a striped sailor’s vest and sang to the guitar. His favourite songs were about the sea, the sailors and the lemur brotherhood. And nifty he was, too – he was a competitive swimmer who loved to jump out of high trees for a bet. But in the evening he would find a place to be alone, quietly watch the sun go down and dream about his country’s future. His fellow lemurs regarded him as one of the lads. They called him simply Seryoga.

It seemed that all the forces of nature had conspired to make Seryoga the Lemur as endearing as possible. The other lemurs imitated him. Those with a tail would dye dark stripes into it so that the tail resembled Seryoga’s striped vest. And when Seryoga sang, lemurs of all kinds – red, black, cat-like, sifakas and others – sang the second part to his mighty howl. There was the high clear whistle of the crested indris, and the tender chirp of the charming lori, and the low grumble of the ungracious aye-aye. A concert not for the fainthearted! Those who heard it for the first time, shivered.

And when Seryoga sang, lemurs of all kinds sang the second part to his mighty howl.

Seryoga was the undisputed leader and actively participated in the process of establishing animal sovereignty on the island. He created and headed the Lemur party ‘Society for Peace and Justice on Maidan’ (SPAM).[4] And he led it into parliament. The party slogans were ‘Equal rights for all voters!’ and ‘Eating insects is unfair!’ What noble words! What high slogans! The Lemurs’ policies resembled their singing: a loud cacophony that sends a shiver down your spine but yields no results whatsoever. We shall return to that.

Seryoga, who was an expert on the recent history of Dado Island during the period just before and after the establishment of democracy, told Alexander much about it. You too should listen to a few of the instructive stories about how the inhabitants of Maidan, the island of the most successful animal democracy, lived and solved their problems. Perhaps you will find it easier to understand and more interesting than our dear but dim Boatswain. We shall be kind and not judge him. There was much that our Boatswain didn’t understand. He lived almost one hundred and fifty years ago, when society in many highly developed countries was defined by ignorance, lawlessness, and violence. The world has advanced a lot since then, but even now, and even in our progressive country, we can easily identify many traits that were typical of the ‘feral’ democracy of Maidan Island in the nineteenth century.

Let us begin our story by pointing out that before the establishment of democracy the regime on the island had been a dictatorship of the workers.