A Children's Story from Henrik

The Tale of Little Muammar. A Cautionary Tale for Undemocratic Children.

 

Once upon a time there was a little boy called Muammar. He lived with his family, the Khadaffis, in a country far far away, where the sun always shone and where he could swim in the mighty ocean. Although his brothers and sister were kind to him and he had many friends, little Muammar was never content. The reason for this was that his country was ruled by an evil king. Muammar said to himself – “If I were the leader of this country, it would be a better place. Oh, if only I were the king!”. “But, how do I become king?” he wondered. “Maybe I can go to the mighty palace and ask the king if he would like to give the crown to me?”

After three days and three nights on his best camel, little Muammar finally reached the mighty castle. When he told the guards that he wanted to talk to the king, he was shown to the king’s golden office in the highest tower. “What could a little boy like you want to discuss with me?” asked the king, who was at least 100 years old and had a long white beard. Little Muammar, who no longer was nervous, boldly stated his mission: “I would like to become king!”. The King laughed a very evil laugh, for he was an evil king, and thought “This is exactly the kind of idiot I can fool to work for me”, so he said: “If you work for me for seven years, I will let you become the king”. Of course, this was a lie, because the work was very hard and never before had anyone survived such hard work for so many years.

Little Muammar worked and worked, day in and day out. When the seven years finally had passed he had become a captain in the king’s guard and he once again came to the king with his request. The king, surprised to find that little Muammar had now become a strong man and that he was still alive, replied that he had actually meant that after seven years he would become nominated for king. Hence, he now had a very good chance of becoming the king, if only he worked for another seven years. Muammar became very sad when he heard this, and went to the palace garden to reflect on his stupidity and mourn the seven lost years. He now understood that the king would never give the crown to him. When Muammar told his soldier friends what the king had said, they cried “What a tyrant! He must go!” The King, who overheard their conversation, became terrified when he realised that his loyal guards had turned against him, and quickly decided that it was time for him to take a vacation. He said to the guards “You are right. I will take my leave and Muammar shall be my successor”, and he quickly left the castle with his 30 wives, never to be seen again. The guards rejoiced, and went to the garden to tell Muammar the good news.

Muammar was overjoyed and after seven weeks of festivities for his people, he started to attended to his new royal duties. Soon, he had solved all the country’s problems and everyone was happy, except for Muammar. No matter how good the country had become, he couldn’t help feeling that he was not a real king. His staff never left him alone. They always came with suggestions, provided advice not asked for and, even, put forth demands. “A king should not have to listen to the silly talk of simple people” he thought. “I want my own ideas to come true”. He had grand plans: he should change the name of the country, make a new flag, spread his thoughts about life. In short, he wanted to create a state never seen or heard of before. “That’s what a real king does” he thought. He started to spread spite among his staff, so that they would have no time to bother him. Soon, all they did was to quarrel over false rumours that he had spread. Now, he could finally fulfil his ambitions. But without a staff, there was no one to carry out his orders. His plans could not be executed.

Soon enough, people were starting to get tired of their new king. “He only cares for himself”, they said. Even Muammar’s oldest friends started to doubt him. When Muammar heard about the complaints he got very angry. “Don’t they understand that I have sacrificed my best seven years for them, that I always have their best in mind?”. To punish the ungrateful, he built ever larger dungeons in his castle, into which disobedient citizens were thrown. None of them saw the sun again. The people of his country started to call him king Gloom, and dissatisfaction spread like a sandstorm in the desert. Not before long, a rebellion started, and soon the entire country was on the march against him. Still, Muammar was safe in his castle, and the rebels couldn’t reach him. Not knowing how to defeat him, they were beginning to despair. Then they were suddenly offered to borrow a dragon from a neighboring country. “The dragon can do what we can’t”, they said. “It can torch the ports and fly over the walls”.

When Muammar looked out from his golden tower at dawn next day, he saw the terrible dragon in front of his people. Before Muammar had the time to say “What kind of strange animal is that?” the dragon had thrown enormous balls of fire on his castle, which immediately went up in flames. The people thanked the dragon, and with a little gift of three hundred oil wells, it was sent back home again. The people now rejoiced, and there was dancing and singing in every street. King Muammar was gone and forgotten. But, oddly enough, he seemed to have left a mark on his people because in many cities you could hear young men whisper “Oh, if only I were the king!”