The Orwellian Masterpiece
Nandor Tankfull stared vacantly off into the middle distance. "How did that happen, man?" he wondered. He had left Parliament at the last election, announcing that he wanted to "chill out" and regroup. He had spent many years, far too many wasted years as a Green MP trying to de-criminalise wacky-backy. He had failed. Too many entrenched interests, funded by big tobacco of course--and, well, yes oil companies as well. They funded everything. They had effectively taken control of the main political parties years ago. People like John Key and Helen Clark were just puppets.
Now, after spending some time in the bush, growing and smoking your own, as one does, he had returned to civilisation only to find that in his absence marijuana had been de-criminalised. He would ordinarily have been deeply depressed, thinking that all those years he must have been the real impediment to decriminalising his favourite weed all along. No sooner had he left Parliament than it was no longer a criminal offence. But thankfully he was too chilled out. His befuddled brain was trying and failing to grasp the new reality.
Sue Bradford stared at her old friend, pitying his confused state--yet at the same time chuckling inwardly. She snorted another line. "You don't know the half of it, Nandi. The trouble with you is that you were always too direct, too obvious. Me, I am subtle in a sorta bus-like way. It's all about feints and false moves. You should have read Sun Tzu's Art of War when I told you."
Nandor wondered what she meant. He asked his old friend to explain. "Well, take this snowflake I am snorting. It's effectively decriminalised as well, now." She went on to explain that for years she had perpetrated the feint of campaigning against child abuse. "It was all a front, Nandi. Isn't that what Lenin and Stalin taught us years ago when we were reading them in the Socialist Action League? Remember. All those apparently legit organisations, but all fronts for us hard core radicals. In the end as you play their games, they trip themselves up and you watch them gut themselves."
There was a bitter stridency to her tone now. No doubt the coke was kicking in. Nandor looked normal and vacant. She began to describe the clever dissimulation of campaigning against child abuse. Then, having eventually manipulated the stupid Clark over a political precipice, Sue described how she had put that oh-so-secret call in to the President of the Law Commission, suggesting the clever compromise. "But the trick is that it mustn't be seen to come from me, Geoffrey", she had purred down the phone.
"No worries," the ge'ed up former law prof had said. "Leave it to me. I know just the man to use." So it had come to pass. The gullible John Key, the oh-so-clever-by-half-currency trader, fell for it hook, line, and sinker. It was like something straight out of Molotov's playbook. "Key got to look like a statesman. Clark was shafted and made to look a fool. I got what we wanted all along. Drugs are now effectively decriminalised in New Zealand."
Nandor had never thought of Sue as an intellectual. But it was clear that she was operating in realms in which he had never travelled. It was all too hard to grasp. Sue was patient, as one is when dealing with a lesser mortal. She carefully explained how it all worked. Firstly, all smacking of children was now a criminal offence. Anyone who smacked or exercised any force at all against children was now committing a criminal act, according to the law. Secondly, the real point lay right here. "Regardless of the law, you are not a criminal unless the Police decide to prosecute. That's it, Nandi. That's the stroke of brilliance. At one fell swoop we changed the definition of crime and criminality in New Zealand. And they were too dumb to see it."
A glimmer of light began to glow in the deep recesses of Nandor's drugged brain. "OK, I get it. Maybe. Or not."
Sue's patience was fast wearing thin. "Get with the plan, Stupid," she snapped. "It's all about seizing control. The law now makes everyone a criminal, which is to say that no-one is a criminal, unless . . ."
"Unless the Police or the State decide to prosecute," said Nandor slowly and carefully. Sue sighed with relief. "At last, dumbo. You have got it. Eureka! We learnt this years ago in the Socialist Action League. If everyone is a criminal and is committing criminal acts, then the State can act at any time, when it wants, and how it wants against whom it wants. If crime is what the State says it is, when it decides to take notice, as and when it pleases, everybody is under its total implicit control at all times."
"So that's why you are saying that grass is now kosher." Sue nodded. She explained how everything was now OK--drugs, murder, theft. It was all effectively decriminalised. They would only became criminal matters if the Police decided to take action. If you controlled the Police you were effectively free to do anything. The rule of law was now extinct--at least in principle. Crime was now defined by the Police and its actions, not the law. New Zealand had just taken a huge step forward in progressing to be a police state.
"And the stupid idiots in Parliament don't know it. That's the beauty of this. They are now defending the Revolution. We have got them arguing that smacking is a crime only when the Police say it is. We have actually got them agreeing and saying, 'It is working well!' And they are having to say it so emphatically. Hah. They don't even know what they are actually doing."
Nandor began to think about the new world Sue had almost single-handedly created. If it were up to the police to decide what was a crime and what was not, the law had become a spent force. But to go further, if the laws on the statute books were expanded so that everyone going about their normal business was effectively defined to be a criminal, then they could be picked up at any time. Whoever controlled the Police would have almost unlimited powers. All opponents could be criminalised at will. And it would all be "legal". Parliament and the courts were now mere appendages. Everyone would be fearful and subject to threat and intimidation.
As Nandor reflected on how the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition party were all cheerleading for this brave new world, he smiled, took a deep long drag, and nodded. John Key and Phil Goff were only puppets all right. But the game had changed and they didn't know it. Sue had just become a legend in his own mind.
Hat Tips: Stephen Franks; Half Done.
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