Border, Breed Nor Birth Part 8
The Russian chuckled. "Nothing is illegal in Tangier, my dear Anton, except the Party." He laughed at his own joke and handed the other his gla.s.s. He poured himself a jolt of vodka and returned to his chair.
"To the world revolution, Anton."
The Negro saluted with his drink. "The revolution!"
They drank.
The Russian put down his gla.s.s and sighed. "I wish we were some place in our own lands, Anton. Dinner, many drinks, perhaps some girls, eh?"
Anton shrugged. "Another time, Kirill."
"Yes. As it is, we should not be seen together. Nor, for that matter should you even return here. The imperialists are not stupid. Very possibly, American and Common Europe espionage agents know of this headquarters. Not to speak of the Arab Union. I shall try to give you the whole story and your a.s.signment in this next half hour. Then you should depart immediately."
The man they called Anton sipped his drink and relaxed in his chair.
He looked at his superior without comment.
The Russian took another jolt of his water-clear drink. "Have you ever heard of El Ha.s.san?"
The Negro thought a moment before saying, "Vaguely. Evidently an Arab, or possibly a Tuareg. North African nationalist. No, that wouldn't be the word, since he is international. At any rate, he seems to be drawing a following in the Sahara and as far south as the Sudan. Backs modernization and wants unity of all North Africa. Is he connected with the Party?"
The espionage chief was shaking his head. "That is the answer I expected you to give, and is approximately what anyone else would have said. Actually, there is no such person as El Ha.s.san."
Anton frowned. "I'm afraid you're wrong there, Kirill. I've heard about him in half a dozen places. Very mysterious figure. n.o.body seems to have seen him, but word of his program is pa.s.sed around from Ethiopia to Mauretania."
The Russian was shaking his head negatively. "That I know. It's a rather strange story and one rather hard to believe if it wasn't for the fact that one of my operatives was in on the, ah, _manufacturing_ of this Saharan leader."
"Manufacturing?"
"I'll give you the details later. Were you acquainted with Abraham Baker, the American comrade?"
"Were? I _am_ acquainted with him. Abe is a friend as well as a comrade."
The Russian shook his head again. "Baker is dead, Anton. As you possibly know, his a.s.signment for the past few years has been with a Reunited Nations African Development Project team, working in the Sahara region. We planted him there expecting the time to arrive when his services would be of considerable value. He worked with a five-man team headed by a Dr. Homer Crawford and largely the team's task was to eliminate bottlenecks that developed as the various modernization projects spread over the desert."
"But what's this got to do with _manufacturing_ El Ha.s.san?"
"I'm coming to that. Crawford's team, including Comrade Baker, usually disguised themselves as Enaden smiths. As such, their opinions carried little weight so in order to spread Reunited Nations propaganda, they hit upon the idea of imputing everything they said to this great hero of the desert, El Ha.s.san."
"I see," the man called Anton said.
"Others, without knowing the origin of our El Ha.s.san, took up the idea and spread it. These nomads are at an ethnic level where they want a hero to follow, a leader. So in order to give prestige to their teachings the various organizations trying to advance North Africa followed in Crawford's footsteps and attributed their teachings to this mysterious El Ha.s.san."
"And it s...o...b..lled."
"Correct! But the point is that after a time Crawford came around to the belief that there should be a real El Ha.s.san. That the primary task at this point is to unite the area, to break down the old tribal society and introduce the populace to the new world."
"He's probably right," the man called Anton growled. He finished his drink, got up from his chair and on his own went over and mixed another. "More vodka?" he asked.
"Please." The Russian held up his gla.s.s and went on talking. "Yes, undoubtedly that is what is needed at this point. As it is, things are trending toward a collapse. The imperialists, especially the Americans, of course, wish to dominate the area for their capitalistic purposes. The Arab Union wishes to take over _in toto_ and make it part of their Islamic world. We, of course, cannot afford to let either succeed."
The Negro resumed his chair, sipped at his drink and listened, nodding from time to time.
Kirill Menzhinsky said, "As you know, Marx and Engels when founding scientific socialism had no expectation that their followers would first come to power in such backward countries as the Russia of 1917 or the China of 1949. In fact, the establishment of true socialism presupposes a highly developed industrial economy. It is simply impossible without such an economy. When Lenin came to power in 1917, as a result of the chaotic conditions that prevailed upon the military collapse of Imperial Russia, he had no expectation of going it alone, as the British would say. He expected immediate revolutions in such countries as Germany and France and supposed that these more advanced countries would then come to the a.s.sistance of the Soviet Union and all would advance together to true socialism."
"It didn't work out that way," the man called Anton said dryly.
"No, it didn't. And Lenin didn't live to see the steps that Stalin would take in order to build the necessary industrial base in Russia."
Kirill Menzhinsky looked about the room, almost as though checking to see if anyone else was listening. "Some of our more unorthodox theoreticians are inclined to think that had Lenin survived the a.s.sa.s.sin's bullet, that Comrade Stalin would have found it necessary to, ah, liquidate him."
The Russian cleared his throat. "Be that as it may, basic changes were made in Marxist teachings to fit into Stalin's and later Khrushchev's new concepts of the worker's State. And the Soviet Union muddled through, as the British have it. Today, the Soviet Complex is as powerful as the imperialist powers."
The espionage leader knocked back his vodka with a practiced stiff wristed motion. "Which brings us to the present and to North Africa."
He leaned forward in emphasis. "Comrade, if the past half century and more has taught us anything, it is that you cannot establish socialism in a really backward country. In short, communism is impossible in North Africa at this point in her social evolution. Impossible. You cannot go directly from tribal society to communism. At this historic point, there is no place for the party's program in North Africa."
The man called Anton scowled.
The Russian waggled his hand negatively. "Yes, yes. I know.
Ultimately, the whole world must become Soviet. Only that way will we achieve our eventual goal. But that is the long view. Realistically, we must face it, as the Yankees say. This area is not at present soil for our seed."
"Things move fast these days," the Negro growled. "Industrialization, education, can be a geometric progression."
His superior nodded emphatically. "Of course, and as little as ten or fifteen years from now, given progress at the present rate, perhaps there will be opportunity for our movement. But now? No."
The other said, "What has all this to do with El Ha.s.san, or Crawford, or whatever the man's name is?"
"Yes," the Russian said. "Homer Crawford has evidently decided to become El Ha.s.san."
"Ahhh."
"Yes. At this point, in short, he is traveling in our direction. He is doing what we realize must be done."
"Then we will support him?"
"Now we come to the point, Anton. Homer Crawford is not sympathetic to the Party. To the contrary. Our suspicion, although we have no proof, is that he killed Comrade Abe Baker, when Baker approached him on his stand in regard to the Party's long view."
"I see," the man called Anton said.
The Russian nodded. "We must keep in some sort of touch with him--some sort of control. If this El Ha.s.san realizes his scheme and unites all North Africa, sooner or later we will have to deal with him. If he is antagonistic, we will have to find means to liquidate him."
"And my a.s.signment...?"
"He will be gathering followers at this point. Many followers, most of whom will be unknown to him. You will become one of them. Raise yourself to as high a rank as you find possible in his group. Become a close friend, if that can be done...."
"He killed Abe Baker, eh?"
The Russian frowned. "This is an a.s.signment, Comrade Anton. There is no room for personal feelings. You are a good field man. Among the best. You are being given this task because the Party feels you are the man for it. Possibly it is an a.s.signment that will take years in the fulfilling."